A Taste of Life
by KhymerVulture
Summary: Based on an AU around Zack and the blind old man. What if the old man didn't die that day? How would Zack's life change from there? (AU Fic)
1. Act 1: Chapter 1

' _What is this chill I'm feeling?_ '

Isaac's world came to a strange turn, he had liberated himself from the cruelties of the Orphanage by murdering the proprietors in their sleep. Now, he's sitting in the living room of an old shack belonging to a blind old man. The past couple days were strangely awkward, Zack said nothing, kept to himself, and mostly slept. He's not used to this, he's not used to being fed, not used to someone casually talking to him, and most especially, not used to having someone show concern for him.

Just the memory of having the old man give him his coat sent his mind in a spin. He just killed a guy, yet the old man was unfazed, and simply tended to him, before filling Zack's head with a question for purpose.

' _What will you do now?_ '

He doesn't know...but...deep down, he doesn't exactly want to leave this trashed shack. It just didn't feel right to just up and go, and besides, where is he going to go?

Zack stared at the scrap of paper onto the table, annoyance scrunched on his face from the frustration of being illiterate. It's been a few hours now since the old man stepped out. Isaac came to figure out that the old man's outings were routine, he left in the early morning, and came back around the afternoon or the evening. Time continued passing by, the light of the day hazed into the dark of night, and the old man wasn't home yet. There were no scraps to scavenge, or even any trace of food to pilfer through the shack, Zack's stomach was growling loudly, a familiar torment that the boy was accustomed to for years. A torment that agitated him.

' _That old fart should've been back by now…_ '

Zack stared at the scrap of paper again, he can't read it, he can't understand the fucking scribbles on the paper. The boy grit his teeth and uttered an angered growl, before swiping the paper and shredding it into bits.

' _They ran off, I just know it...I should've killed him when I had the chance,_ ' he internally snarled, ' _he's the same...they're all the same…_ '

That chill he continued to feel during his stay didn't leave him at all, instead, such a sensation increased. It was making his heart race, a palpitation he hasn't felt since he had ordinary skin. Following that, was a sickening twist in his stomach. Zack doesn't know what this strange feeling was, he doesn't understand it - he hates it.

Isaac angrily leapt out of the wooden chair he had been sitting on all day, and let out a loud, infuriated yell at the top of his small lungs. Adrenaline surged through his veins, giving him that same sense of a savage rush like during the night of his liberation. He was overwhelmed with an urge to destroy - to kill. The young boy grabbed the nearest thing in sight, grasping the flimsy wood chair, and held it up to throw it across the shack.

"What's all this fuss about?"

Zack paused in his actions, his heart stopped for a split second, and that rush of adrenaline suddenly ceased. The boy lowered his arms and glanced behind himself to see the old man entering the shack through the creaky door. The elderly man slipped his tattered hat off to set it at the table, before approaching the boy. Zack quietly set the chair down, and returned to his stoicness - albeit, he was internally kicking himself for jumping to conclusions so quickly.

"...What took you so long?"

"I apologize for the delay, I didn't mean to make you worry," the old man replied, then handed a small paper bag to Isaac. "There had been an incident near the riverside. The area was blocked off for a while, so I had to wait until everything was cleared up. From what I heard, there had been a mugging, which lead to an unfortunate end…"

The person was killed, there was no need to sugarcoat it for Zack. The delay though, all over a dead person, to Zack, it seemed like it should be no big deal.

"Such a shame...it seems every new generation is growing much more violent these days…" the old man sighed, pulling back a chair on the opposite side of the table to sit with the boy.

"...It's a kill or be killed world...people will do crazy things to live another day…" Zack muttered with a sneer.

This made the elderly man reflect on the blood he smelled coming from Zack, but again, he made no reaction to it, "...Hmm...yes, I suppose so…"

Then something recalled in his mind, "Ah, right...were you able to find my note? I'm afraid I can't really judge what my penmanship is like nowadays."

There was an awkward silence, before Zack let out a shy mumble, "...I can't read."

This surprised the elder, especially for someone Zack's age to be illiterate, it seems there alot to the boy that he did not know. It must've explained the anxiety he was able to sense from him as he stepped back into the house, still, a short chuckle left the man's lips.

"What's so funny? Are you laughing at me?" Zack growled.

"No, not at all...just laughing at myself," the old man replied, "I must've made the situation a little awkward. I apologize again, I wasn't aware."

The boy huffed before he opened the bag given to him, even just a crease opened, his nostrils picked up the scent of bread, and quickly assumed that it was freshly made. It was at room temperature now, but the scent was fairly pleasing compared to the hard bread he ate prior. Again, Zack's stomach growled, and the boy didn't hesitate twice to take a bite out of the soft loaf. He doesn't know if he was going to get used to this, he was so used to being discarded or treated like some sort of burden to kick around. This old man was treating him the opposite, he just keeps giving, with no catch to it. Such acts were making his survival instincts too befuddled to be suspicious of him or not, like he wants to keep his guard up, but at the same time, he doesn't want to be so defensive around him either. The old man remained the same, keeping that gentle nature, feeding him and providing a roof over his head, when he never asked for it.

He gives, without asking much in return, just the company from another person.

Isaac doesn't know what it all is, to give. He always looked out for himself, others would either die off or treat him like something other than human. The boy glanced over to the blind elder, and knew he went out of his way to get him fresh bread this time. For once, Zack went against his instinct of self preservation, and brought his bandaged hand up to tear off the other half of the bread.

The old man could smell the scent of the bread coming in his direction, Zack was offering it to him.

"It's yours, young man. You need all the food you can get to grow big and strong," the old man kindly declined.

"...Eat it…"

This made the old man pause for a moment, Zack was insistent on giving him a share of his food. This boy, who only kept to himself, and showed a strong distrust - along with an inner plight that he can sense. Maybe this can be a sign that he was coming around. The old man grasped the piece of bread from Zack's fingers, and bit off a small piece. The two sat there quietly as they've always done, now eating this freshly baked bread together.

"I have been meaning to ask...but I did not want to seem like I was prying, may I ask you for your name?"

"...What for? Why do you care?" Zack grumbled.

"Well, I can't exactly call you ' _Boy'_ all the time," the man replied with a gentle chuckle.

Isaac stayed quiet for a moment, he was kind of right, and Zack probably wouldn't respond if he was referred to such a name, something that didn't show his individuality.

"...It's…" he reluctantly muttered, as if saying something so simple was choking his throat, "...it's I-Isaac...Isaac Foster...I'd rather be called Zack…"

"Isaac…" the old man mumbled, "...Isaac...that's a good name."

Zack could feel something else besides a chill within his being, a shy warmth creeping across his cheeks, and heating the bandages he wore on his face. It's awkward to hear something about him that wasn't demeaning, and hummed out a faint grumble. He doesn't know how to react to it.

His mismatched eyes returned to the blind old man, "...What about you?"

"Just calling me _'Old Man_ ' will do," he replied. "I guess it would be simpler anyway."

Zack gave the man a pout, not like he could see his reaction anyway. Still, it felt like his question was kind of dodged. Then, he watched him carefully get up, and shuffle over to the other side of the shack.

"Well, since you've told me that you can't read, I'm afraid I can't exactly educate you like a normal person would these days," he said, "...however, I suppose I can teach you my way of being able to read. Even the outside world can provide these kind of texts."

Isaac raised a brow, as the old man pat around one of the dingy furniture, knocking aside some bottles, until he grasped the item he was looking for. As the old man returned to Zack's side, he set down the item he was searching for, a book. Before the boy could question, or even complain about his illiteracy, the elder opened the book to show that it was devoid of words, each and every page had an array of different bumps lining the page.

"Ever since my vision began to fail, I had to teach myself to read this way," the old man said, "...this is Braille, it helps the blind read like any other person. Since I can no longer read ordinary text, perhaps I can teach you to read Braille too."

"Right now?"

The old man softly chuckled, "It's quite late, I think it would be better to do it tomorrow when we're both fully rested."

He closed the book, leaving on the table as a silent promise.

"If you do wish to live here, I think it's about time this place should get tidied up as well. It wouldn't seem right to have you live in such a mess," he continued.

"...I'm used to it…"

"Hmm, that may be...but I think a change is always good for everyone," the old man said. Like before, he showed his kindness to Zack, by giving him a gentle pat on the head, and draping his torn coat around his shoulders, "Get yourself some sleep."

The elderly man shuffled his way to the bedroom, with the sound of light patters following behind. Zack could see an orange feline making its way into the bedroom for a quieter place to sleep. It must've went into hiding, especially after Zack's sudden outburst earlier. Once the bedroom door closed right behind him, Zack sat there to stew in his own thoughts. He finished eating the last bits of bread, before dusting the crumbs off his bandaged hands. This old man he's come to stay with really was a complete opposite of those in the Orphanage, he just gives, while they always took. Not once has Zack ever asked for any of it, but, he really doesn't want to complain. Honestly, these passing days had been feeling both strange, but oddly fulfilling. This blind man treats him so much differently, not as a monster or a tool, and shows no sign of even considering it. Then, there was the way he talked to Zack, even if it was simple ramblings about the day, his tone was always soft and calm, unlike the venomous words he came to adjust to.

Isaac actually gave something to someone, it was a behavior he would never show to anybody, especially when it came to food. The bread given to him, it was incredibly tasty, much better than the stale bread that he consumed the other day. Deep down, Zack knew he couldn't live on just bread alone. The boy has lived on trash for the longest time, but still, he did devour different things that he considered palatable. His instinct to scavenge stirred within him, but also something else, a strange need to give something in return to the old man. Something did poke in the back of Isaac's mind though, he knows the blind elder was living in squalor, the trashed shack was proof enough, and the man's disability certainly wouldn't bring in income to help get food. Like Zack, this man must've scavenged as well - it explains the hard bread.

"Why do I even care about it?"

The boy paced about the room for a moment, he's feeling a mixture of agitation and anxiety. No one cared about his existence in such a way the old man is doing now, and it's bothering the hell out of Zack. Is repaying this strange gesture a proper way to react? Maybe like before, when he admitted his act of murder to the old man, he could try and test a reaction.

Isaac pulled off the coat that was draped around him, and dropped it onto the couch he had been sleeping on in the past few days. He quietly made his way into the old man's room once again, there was one thing he wanted to confirm for himself. His heterochromatic eyes spotted the tattered wallet kept on a cracked dresser, and didn't think twice to open the small, leather pouch. Just as he thought, only pennies were inside. This old man sacrificed what very little he had to get him actual, edible food. Isaac grit his teeth, he feels this sense like he's too much trouble for someone like this man, but not once has he complained or shown regret for it.

Company just isn't enough for repayment, Zack feels like he's taking from him, another person who's just struggling to survive another day.

' _Maybe this is why it's bothering me so much…_ '

His mind was made up, Isaac set the wallet down, and left the room. He was going to seek out another victim tonight. As Zack stepped out, he paused in his steps, and recalled that he disposed of that large kitchen knife. It had become dull and twisted, incapable of stabbing or even slitting a throat to help commit the deed of killing. The boy grumbled in annoyance, he needed to be resourceful if he was going to take someone down. Zack walked around the house to find at least something of use that he can wield as a weapon. Just near the back of the house, he found piles of wood, possibly to be used to warm up the old shack during the colder weather. Well, the man isn't going to be using it now, given the warm season it was now. Zack picked up a large chunk of wood, and decided to get a good feel for it. He swung it a few times, getting a better grip on the blunt object to prevent it from slipping from his fingers. It may not do a quick job like a knife, but at least beating the shit out of someone will suffice.

Isaac set out into the nearby town, maybe if he's lucky, he can bump into another drunk.

Like before, there was barely a soul wandering around in the dead of night, except for the usual drunks leaving their favorite bars to head home. Zack walked down the alleys, if he got a kill there, then maybe he can do it again. He stopped in his tracks, and saw the stain on the ground where his last kill happened. Zack had this deep compulsion to smile at his work. Just knowing he killed a person made him feel satisfied, but that smile faded as he recalled the old man's reaction.

' _What will you do now?_ '

He still doesn't know...but for now, he just wants to pay the old man back.

A sound suddenly caught Zack's ears, a loud and exhausted yawn. The boy turned his attention to the noise, and saw a man shuffling down the alley. It's obvious the man was worn out, he was wearing a suit, which he lazily unbuttoned with a tie dangling on his neck. He looked like he was about to fall asleep any second. They were perfect, this man wouldn't have the energy to fight back, more or less even realize what hit him. Zack hunkered down behind some trash cans and gripped the piece of wood tightly. He was like a predator stalking prey just before the moment of striking. As soon as he caught a glimpse of the exhausted man's back, Isaac charged, reeling his arms back to swung the blunt object at the man's knees to cripple him, then swung again to strike the victim on the head.

It took seconds to topple the person to the ground, and Zack was overwhelmed with a rush coursing through his veins - that very same rush he got from his last kills. He smirked at his handiwork, and stood over the motionless victim, however, he noticed that they were still breathing.

"Tch...I didn't kill them...one more blow to the head outta do it…" Zack muttered to himself, "...to hell with it, I liked using that knife anyway…"

Killing this unconscious person would be a waste of time, he only came out for a different purpose anyway. Not like this person saw who ambushed him, and not like they would remember anyway. Zack knelt down to the man's level and began to pilfer through his pockets, pulling out the man's wallet and quickly scrounging through it for whatever he had. There was a big wad of cash inside, but he wasn't sure if it was alot or very little, since he was uneducated. Didn't matter anyway, he only cared about it being enough to pay the old man back.

Isaac pocketed the bundle of cash, then tossed the pseudo-leather wallet onto the incapacitated man's face. It was time for him to go back to that dirty old shack, and go to sleep. Finding his way back felt natural, even though this was the second time leaving the place, it was almost like the path back to the residence was already imprinted on his mind. The front door was so damn loud as he slowly pushed it open, the hinges were definitely worse for wear due to age and disrepair. The old man would wake for sure.

"Zack?"

Yep, he woke him up.

The elderly man tiredly shuffled out of the bedroom to check on who entered his home, "Zack, is that you?"

"...Yeah…"

"Did you step out again?" the man asked.

"...Yeah…"

An expression of concern grew on the elder's face, but also a strange sense a relief.

' _This child does not smell of blood this time…_ '

Before he could inquire Isaac's need to be out so late, the blind man felt Zack grasp at his hand. The boy's hands were covered in some sort of cloth, yet, his permanent dark vision couldn't help him figure out if it was just scraps of cloth or gloves on his hands. Zack turned his hand over, then quietly placed something within his withered palm, and judging from the texture, it was obviously money.

"Take it..." Zack quietly murmurs. "It's yours…"

The boy's mismatched eyes focused on the old man before him, he appeared a bit stunned to be given this, almost at a complete loss for words. There was also another mix in the man's expression, a faint hint of remorse, which left Zack confused and curious.

"Thank you, Zack...but you didn't have to go out of your way for this…" the man said.

"I did…" Zack replied, his eyes trailing down to the dirty floor. "I'm just sittin' around doing nothing...while you're doing all this stuff for me…when you didn't have to."

The elderly man appeared confused, "What do you mean?"

"...I'm a monster, but you keep treating me differently from everyone else…it's the least I can do, I guess…"

"Monster?..." the old man repeated, "...I don't believe you're a monster at all, you seem to be quite a fine, young man."

Isaac felt something besides that uncomfortable chill, like something within his chest twist, and fill him with a strange warmth. This made the boy grasp at his chest, and blink a couple times from a strange sting coming from the corners of his eyes. The man's words showed no signs of a lie - but Zack's self-doubt wants to tell him that this blind man is only being naive.

Naive or no, the old man meant every word - to him, Isaac was a poor and misguided child.

Zack grit his teeth, as his throat tightened, and a sound struggled to choke itself out from him. No one ever said such a thing to him before. All he's ever heard were the same heinous insults - monster, freak, tool, and the like. Even if it's just a small word of kindness, it meant the whole word to this broken boy - it made him feel normal, for once.

"...Thank you…"

* * *

Everything after that, the old man held true to his words. First thing that was done the following day, the old man dedicated his time to teaching Zack how to read Braille. It was confusing at first; after all, it was just bumps, and his wrappings didn't help at all. Zack tore off small pieces of the cloth, leaving just his fingertips bare to help roll his scarred digits over the array of elevated lettering. It seems he'll have to make a change on how he wrapped up his body.

The old man was rather descriptive on every different bump within the book, demonstrating which one were letters, symbols or numbers - rows of six bumps total, but all assorted into different patterns. Though pairing all of them into a word appeared so foreign in his mind, yet, the man showed his willingness to aid him in piecing them bit by bit, until it all began to make sense. The book was a collection of weirdly assorted sentences, something the old man called _poems_. They seemed like mere rambling to Zack, but all he cared was he can finally read _something_.

After days have passed, the shack was finally getting the clean up it needed. The old man held open a large bag for the trash to be thrown in, while Isaac picked up every scrap of paper, trash, and old alcohol bottles strewn about the place. The cat wasn't making it so easy, and often pawed at the balled up pieces of paper before Zack could have a chance to pick them up. The boy huffed in annoyance and picked the cat up by the scruff of the neck, then hovered the feline over the bag. He had no intention of dropping the animal in, but it amused him to tease them in such a way. He set the orange tabby back onto the floor and gave it a pat to shoo it away, while him and the old man were busy.

With a large bundle of the trash being disposed of, the shack was growing comfortable.

With the bulk of the scattered mess disposed of, the floors were swept, while the old man cleaned the windows. Isaac was accustomed to being used when the Orphanage was completely trashed, but he was forced to do it, the old man was quite calm and polite when he asked him. He _asked_. Giving Zack the option to say yes or no - not like he was going to decline anyway, but knowing that someone actually bothered to ask, it made him feel good inside. The old man wanted aid, not a tool.

Their little shack was feeling a little more like a home.

* * *

"Zack...are you still here?"

"...Yeah, I'm in the livin' room, Gramps!"

Several years had passed, the place they called home was nothing like the ramshackle shack Zack first occupied. It was kept clean, and no longer had a musty scent lingering in the old wood. There was also a change in Zack as well, he was an adult now - 20 years old, and much healthier than the emaciated boy he once was. He had grown tall, and thanks to Zack's vicious muggings, even his selfless instinct to aid the elderly man, he had built up some muscular bulk. No longer was Zack a frail boy struggling to live another day, he was a force to be reckoned with. Just that one robbery that day wasn't going to be a one-time thing, it was a test on how he would do it, aside from repaying the old man for taking him in. After that, Zack had been committing savage muggings every other week. It helped keep his profile low, and the two didn't exactly spend their income luxuriously. They did, however, get items that were their biggest priority, like food, and new clothing.

For now, Zack was lounging on the couch, his eyes were closed for a moment, as if he was trying to take a short nap, like he often did since living with the man. His attitude towards the elder changed as well, it was obviously clear when he made the decision to stay with him. Ever since the old man told him that he was not a monster, the blind man earned something Zack never given to anyone - trust and respect. To be given the name Gramps was definitely proof enough of it. Zack would've never bothered to care to learn for names, or even give names to go by for someone. This old man clearly affected Zack in his youth, in a positive way.

The old man, now known as Gramps made his way through the home, tapping his cane here and there to listen to his surroundings. Ever since living with the young man, he's developed a sixth sense of knowing where Zack's presence was. Gramps set his hand on the cushion of the old couch, and glanced in the direction where Isaac would be.

"Ah, there you are...have you seen the cat? I haven't seen him in days…"

Zack lazily opened an eye, "Hmm? Just shake a bag of food, that always got him runnin'...hell, break out the can, I've seen him go nuts over that."

"I have, but I never got any response," Gramps replied.

Zack raised a brow, that was new, even having them just suddenly disappear seemed so unlike the mischievous orange tabby. He knows damn well he didn't scare off the creature, the feline was rather quite friendly and playful to Zack through the years. To have it not respond to their usual beckoning made the man curious.

"Hmm...maybe they're out catching mice again…" Gramps prattled, "would you mind going outside to check for me?"

Seemed easy enough, "Yeah...gimme a few minutes…"

The young man rolled himself off the couch, and made his way out of the shack. Honestly, he didn't have the heart to tell his doubts to Gramps. The cat was becoming just as old and frail as the old man himself, and its fiery orange pelt grew dulled and gray over the years. The feline was even showing its lack of life, it slept much more than it used to, lost interest in chasing whatever Zack waved in front of it, and even catching mice didn't appeal to it. The feline didn't really have much fangs to subdue its prey anyways, just one dull fang remaining in its aging mouth.

Still, he needed to find where the tabby snuck off to.

Zack began to click his tongue, followed with soft whistles to beckon the cat, and alert it of his presence. Normally the simple calls worked, but like the old man said, there was no response. He decided to try and lightly clap his hands in another attempt to get the animal's attention. Again, the feline was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey cat, where the hell are ya'?"

Isaac walked around the shack, and glanced at a tunnel underneath the wooden building, obviously dug by some sort of vermin in the past. To him, he knew it was the cat's favorite spot to hunt and catch all sorts of prey that lurked underneath. He may as well give it a look, and internally hope to god nothing leaped out at him.

"You in there?"

Zack got on his knees, and peeked into the small tunnel in hopes of finding the missing feline. His eyes focused to see anything that lurked in the dark, and to his relief, he saw the familiar striped pattern of the tabby's coat. Maybe the cat was becoming deaf too, that's why it never responded to the usual sounds. The cat was curled up underneath the shack, like the usual position it preferred when it took a nap. If the cat really was losing its hearing, then maybe he should wake the animal up gently, as to not startle it. Zack slid a hand inside of the tunnel, and reached for the cat's ear to give it a gentle rub. His exposed fingertips felt at the soft fur of the cat's pelt, but as his hand gently coiled around the feline's ear, he sensed that the body was cold to the touch - cold as the dirt in the Earth.

The young man froze, and felt a churning pit within his stomach. The cold stiffness within the feline's body, and its lack of response to sound, even touch, there was no other explanation. From the short, torturous years of growing up in the Orphanage, along with being completely surrounded by this similar situation, Zack knew what was wrong - the cat was _dead_.

"...Shit…" he quietly muttered, "...the old man isn't going to like this…"

Simply telling Gramps that the cat was dead wouldn't be enough, he was honest to the core, but Zack wanted to present the evidence of his find to the old man. He carefully reached further into the hole, and carefully pulled the curled corpse out. The cat really did look like it was sleeping as it often did. Perhaps this was the reason for the cat's disappearance, the cat must've figured their time was up and went to find a place to die. An all too familiar scenario with the children who suffered in the Orphanage with him.

Zack carried the body with him, as he walked back around the shack, and entered through the usual creaky door.

"Did you find the cat?"

"...Y-Yeah…" Zack replies, "...but, I don't have any good news about it…"

Gramps stayed quiet for a moment, he was curious what the young man meant by that, but also worried - was the cat hurt? Sick? Or worse?

Zack raised his arms up to present the deceased feline to the blind man, watching him halt in his steps, and bring a hand up to feel at what was brought up before him. A familiar soft pelt, but a cold stiffness to the touch. Gramps' expression was neutrally shocked at first, before it shifted to a sadness.

"...I see...this is unfortunate…" he said with a somber sigh.

"...Sorry about this…"

"It's not your fault, Zack," Gramps replied, "I'm glad you let me know what happened. This is the course of nature, and he had lived a full life."

Gramps retracted his hand, and gently nudged Zack out of the way, so he could exit the shack.

"Come with me, I'll need your help."

Isaac raised a brow, but followed the elderly man outside of their home. For some reason, he was still feeling this disgusting twist within his stomach, and a sense of dread looming over him - like a terrible deja vu. He followed Gramps to the other side of the shack, and watched him set aside his cane to reach for something else. Within the man's wrinkled grasp, he saw a very familiar tool - a shovel. Zack froze up, his stomach sank, like it was being weighed by so many stones. Memories flashed within his head of those horrible nights of being forced to bury corpses, being used as a tool. Just the shovel alone was a symbol of his mental torment. His hands shook, his throat tightened, and a need to escape began to flood in his mind. Isaac doesn't want to relive it, not now, not with Gramps.

"Could you help pick out a spot?" Gramps calmly asked, "I'm afraid I won't be of any help, with my faulty eyesight."

Isaac's anxiety driven thoughts suddenly ceased from the old man's words, leaving him numb and confused, "...W-Wait...you just want me to find a place to bury it?"

Gramps lightly nodded, "A place with flowers would be wonderful, I think they'll love that…"

This sent Zack's thoughts in a stir, it confused him, the cat was just a corpse now, so why would it matter where the body was buried - aren't corpses meant to be disposed of?

"Why? The cat's already dead, so why is finding a spot such a big deal? We're just getting rid of it, aren't we?"

Gramps gently shook his head, with his expression showing a hint of sympathy - it seems Zack let slip a little more of his past without thinking much about it. Even after trying his absolute best to educate Zack through the years, there was still much for the young man to learn, and alot more to life for him to experience. Where ever Zack came from, the old man knew that deep down, it must've been a harsh and unforgiving environment. Like before, he made no attempt to pry.

"No, we're giving him a proper place to rest," Gramps said, "he's been a loyal companion for all of these years. I think for the memories we shared with them, the best thing we should offer them is a peaceful burial. They deserve that, wouldn't you agree?"

Isaac stayed silent for a moment, then glanced at the feline in his arms, he's so damn used to disposing of corpses like trash, and always assumed it was just normal to do so. However, to Gramps, he's treating a burial like it was a farewell to an old friend. The more he looked at the cat, it did appear peaceful, like it was still asleep - maybe that's how they went, and simply passed on as they slept underneath the house. Zack's thoughts were in a spin, what was the truth to him?

He shook himself back to his senses, and walked onward to lead the old man into the forested area near the shack. A place with flowers, just like he had asked. This still seemed so strange on Zack's end, his mind keeps trying to replay all those times he was forced to bury bodies for the purpose of just getting rid of it, but now this situation is so much different. This body was going to be treated respectfully. Even though it was a corpse now, to the old man, it was still their companion, now locked in eternal sleep.

Zack noticed a small patch of wildflowers, and stopped in his tracks, "Hey...I found a spot…"

"Oh you did? Wonderful. Thank you, Zack," the old man said, as he walked up, then gripped onto the shovel to put it to work, "Alright, I'll take care of this."

Gramps dug the blade of the shovel into the earth, he didn't have an awful lot of strength to push the tool in further, and even used his foot to stamp the shovel in a little more. Isaac just stood there and watched, knowing that the old man was having difficulty picking up the piles of earth. It was obvious to see that he was struggling, but determined to dig a hole for the small burial site. The need to step in was stirring within Zack, but his legs were frozen. Memories made him wish to avoid having to touch that god forsaken tool, just looking at it keeps haunting his thoughts and senses. Those brutal nights, even the freezing rain that made the wet bandages stick to his skin, and chill him to the bone - such memories continued to feel so vivid, so fresh, no matter how many years have passed. Even still...he can't leave the old man to strain himself…

Zack set the deceased animal down, and walked up to Gramps. The old man sensed something grasp the hilt of the shovel, and prevented him from digging any further.

"I'll take care of it, yer' gonna kill yourself, Gramps…"

The old man turned his attention to where Zack's voice came from, "It's alright, Zack, really...I got this."

"Nah, ain't havin' it...just chill for a bit, I'll finish up…"

There was no use arguing with Zack, Gramps came to learn that once the young man set his heart on something, there was no changing his mind. The old man stepped back to let Isaac finish digging a hole for the burial. Like what he's accustomed to, Zack stabbed the tool into the earth, and lifted a large pile of dirt to the side, before doing it again to deepen the small pit. Doing this task often made Zack feel angered and disgusted, but for some reason, he wasn't getting this sensation at all. Even shovelling at the dirt wasn't causing a spike in anxiety, it only felt like Zack was doing just another simple chore.

' _This is so fucking weird...why isn't it bothering me anymore?_ '

Isaac's mismatched eyes focused on the old man nearby, and watched how he patiently waited for him to dig the small grave. Those who had wronged Zack would force him to do whatever they pleased - he was not a human in their eyes. For Gramps, it was another story, the old man's requests were always approached so calmly, and within good reason. Sometimes, Gramps didn't even need to ask, Zack would just do it on his own. That thought alone made Zack pause, what he's doing now was his own decision, as a human being - not a tool. There was no way this feeble old man would even consider such a thought to come across his mind. In the cloudy-white eyes of the old man, Zack was envisioned as a lost child, not as a monster or any such words, just as he told him all those years ago.

' _You seem to be quite a fine, young man…_ '

God, those words still hit Zack hard.

"Zack? Are you finished? You've been quiet for a while…"

"Ah...s-sorry, I kinda spaced out for a second," Zack replied, before digging up one more pile of earth, "alright, the hole should be deep enough."

"Thank you, Zack," the old man said. "Let's give our friend their final place to rest."

Zack set the shovel to the side, so he could pick up the curled up feline he had placed on the ground. He turned around and saw Gramps stumble for a moment, like he had tripped upon something.

"Ah?! Shit, you alright?"

"I'm fine, clumsy me...I think I ran into a stone," the old man replied.

He knelt down to investigate what he had struck, and just as he assumed, it was indeed a stone, and a fairly large one. It must've been buried in the wooded foliage that Zack didn't see. Even though it almost caused a small accident, this large stone seemed to be perfect for what else was needed for the grave - a tombstone. If Zack stepped in to finish digging, then he could at least add the final touch to it.

Zack watched the old man pick up the large rock, and feel at the soft earth underneath him to judge exactly where the dug grave was, before setting it in front the small pit.

"There, now he has a proper grave," Gramps said. "Let's send him off…"

Isaac glanced down at the feline, then knelt down before the grave to carefully put the corpse inside the small ditch. This really was a different kind of scenario compared to disposing of bodies back in the Orphanage, it almost felt kind of somber. It's hard to believe that so many years passed by, since he even met with this cat, hell, even experience what it was like to play with an animal that didn't fear him.

So, this is what the old man was implying to Zack; this kind a burial was to show respect those dear that have passed on, while back in the Orphanage, those who passed were only regarded as trash. The young man's world continues to feel like it was being turned upside down with every passing year and every new experience with Gramps. Yet, he never once complained about it, this kind of culture shock only left him more curious. It wasn't left without a bitter taste in Zack's mouth, and how he was disgustingly lied to, for using him, and for making him assume that what he had done was normal for a burned freak like himself. It made Isaac grit his teeth and clench his fist in a growing anger.

"Rest well, old friend…" the old man spoke up. It snapped Zack out of his dark thoughts, and focus his attention back to the elder nearby. He had the shovel in hand to push the dirt over the body to finalize the burial. On his face, was an expression that he was at peace. With the labor done, Gramps turned his head, and softly smiled to Zack, "If you want to, you could leave them some flowers."

Isaac stared at the mound, he had to internally admit, he really did grow fond of that mischievous, orange feline through the passing years. Maybe, like the old man, he could consider it a friend - unlike the children who never lasted long in the Orphanage, those he never became attached to. The wildflowers that were strewn about the plot they had picked for the burial, perhaps the cat would really like that; he even recalled watching the tabby bat at a few flower petals for no particular reason, other than play. A half-grin creeped upon Zack's lips as he knelt down and plucked a couple of the wildflowers, he set them onto the soft dirt, as a way of giving the cat something to play with one last time.

"See ya' later…"

Zack stood back onto his feet, and dusted off the dirt that collected on his pants. He walked over to the old man to grasp the shovel from his hands, and offered to guide the blind elder back to the place they called home. It was going to be a little less occupied now, but Zack did learn something today. He learned the more human side of one of his biggest torments, that not everything was done for the most selfish and heinous of reasons - but out of honor and respect to those that meant alot to someone.

Living with this old man continued to feel like he was in some foreign territory, but he was willing to continue staying and learn there were more sides to life than the mercilessness he had grown accustomed to.

* * *

Another change occurred during Zack's stay with the old man, this change was an effect on how those within the town viewed him. Just stepping out into the open during the day, especially with the way he looked, was anxiety inducing. There had been times where he either wanted to cut people up for staring at him, or run off to hide his grotesque appearance. When the populace noticed he was following the old man, even helping him out, some people seemed to have fawned over it.

Isaac was the boy that Gramps adopted. Or simply, the shy boy that followed the blind beggar around. After a few trips, no one really questioned Zack's presence; to them, he became another regular.

Though, some people did continue to stare, due to his bandaged face, which Zack learned to just wear another article of clothing to make him appear a little more normal, either using a scarf, a face mask, or even a bandana. When he had to run errands on his own, he even took to wearing fingerless gloves to help him read the Braille words, and make sure what he was asked to fetch was the correct item. Even some of the shop owners called Zack by name. It was weird, very weird, to have people just say hello to him in such a friendly manner, and to refer to him by name like they were already on friendly terms with him, because he was a regular. This was hard to adjust to, and hard to realize that in town, he became _normal_.

Today was a grocery day, Zack followed Gramps down the street, as they carried paper bags filled with assorted food in hand. Isaac took care of the heavier items, while Gramps carried the lighter groceries, like bread, eggs, and cheese. The two continued down the sidewalk, until something nagged Zack to halt in his tracks. Something was nearby, just hiding in a small alley near a row of townhouses. Isaac leaned in to peek at what was lurking in there, and noticed a small figure sitting against the wall of the building. It was a small human figure. Zack's eyes focused in the shady dark, and saw that it was a young girl. Her expression showed a somber hollowness. Not only that, Zack could pick up a faint whiff of blood. There were slight visible bruises, and the girl was wiping her nose - most likely, the blood Isaac detected.

There was no question that this girl was having it rough. He's seen that kind of look before.

"What's yer' story?"

The man's voice startled the girl, and quickly glanced in his direction. He saw an odd look of relief, as she noticed who was there - just a simple stranger to her. The girl tightened her lips, and turned her head away, as if she had something to hide. Not only that, Zack was still a stranger to this hollow girl.

Isaac breathed out a faint huff, "...Whatever…"

The man backed away, so he could head back to Gramps. The old man had noticed Zack's presence had lagged behind, and patiently waited for him to return.

"Ah, there you are...did something happen?"

"Nah, it was nothin' important, let's head back home…" Zack replied.

Both Isaac and the old man continued their walk together, while they carried their share of groceries to the edge of town.

Back in their home, both Gramps and Zack placed away their food in their respective places. The old man never questioned where Zack got his money, but he was relieved that he wasn't coming home smelling of blood. He assumed that Zack must've found a better outlet for his lost sense of purpose. It was helpful as well, Isaac's selfless contributions bettered their lives to make their living arrangements much more like a home. Even now, Zack used the money he collected to get them a couple of appliances to help them store and cook food without the fear of it spoiling. Zack took out a couple of eggs they had just bought, before putting it and the cheese into a mini fridge he managed to buy with the stolen money. He had gotten a hot plate as well, he knew damn well the old man had a gas stove, but there was one problem - fire. With what he had, Zack wouldn't have to get near that dangerous element.

"Gonna make lunch...ya' hungry, Gramps?"

"I am a little hungry," the old man replied.

"Kay, sit tight."

It wasn't just reading that the old man taught Isaac, he even taught him basic mathematics - which was a huge help in Zack's muggings, and even how to cook. It's mostly basic meals that were made, since it's what they mostly could afford - more or less, stuff into that tiny fridge. Zack wasn't exactly a great chef, but whatever he cooked was still very much edible.

* * *

That night, Isaac sat on the couch, seemingly wallowing in thought. The young man was staring at his hand, uncovered, as his gloves laid beside the furniture on the floor. He stared intensely at the specks of scars littering his skin, and brooded with a sense of inner disgust. How is everyone able to treat him like an everyday person? Internally, he's happy that the old man took him in like one of his own, and even made him feel a sense of acceptance these past 7 years, but still, it can't wipe away the horrific memories burned in his mind. Not to mention, this inner desire he continued to feel since he first picked up that kitchen knife; life may have been calm all these years, but that sinister urge to shed blood was only kept at bay, due to his muggings.

' _What if Gramps wasn't blind...would he still have taken me in?_ ' he thought to himself, then recalled the woman he murdered next to her car, '... _or would he see me as a monster?_ '

Being covered in blood didn't seem to affect the old man, but, how would he react if he really knew what Zack was? What he kept hidden underneath his bandages...

"Hey, Gramps…"

The following morning, the old man was making a pot of tea for him and Zack. He turned his attention to the direction of Zack's voice to inquire what he needed.

"What is it, Zack? Do you need something?"

Isaac bit at his bottom lip from anxiety building up within his being. If he showed him, how was Gramps going to react? Hell, how was _he_ going to react? His throat got tight, making it difficult and painful to swallow, while his heart thudded hard against his chest.

He needs to know…

"...Do you still not think of me as a monster?"

Gramps raised one of his bushy brows in confusion, it's been a long while since Zack shown his self-loathing to him.

"Of course, Zack...I meant what I said. You're not a monster," Gramps replied, "...what's with the doubt?"

Isaac took a couple deep, but frantic breaths, the unknowing outcome was making him nervous - after all these years, he was so damn nervous if everything turned to hell now. He doesn't know what to do, or what he'll do. Zack pushed a sleeve back, and unwrapped one of his arms with a shaky hand. He can see more of his skin, littered with rigid scars, obviously caused by burns. An unwilling disfigurement that he absolutely loathed about himself. Zack collected his chaotic thoughts, and picked up one of the old man's hands, and placed it on his arm.

Gramps paused for a moment, actually feeling skin underneath is calloused fingertips. He can feel the warmth of Zack's skin, but also an unnatural firmness in some areas. Scar tissue, that's what it was, and there was alot of it. This is why Zack called himself a monster, a freak. His body endured a permanent trauma that must've left him believing this was he was now. His expression lowered to an empathetic and somber one. This must be why he was mistreated so badly, before stumbling upon this young man. Gramps breathed out a soft and saddened sigh, as he felt Zack's bunched sleeve, then quietly pulled it back down to cover his arm back up.

"Zack…" he beckons, "...you are _not_ a monster. You are just as human as I."

Zack's heterochromatic eyes widened. He was speechless to Gramps' words, even his show of kindness, no matter what. He's going to accept him, he's always going to accept him. This made the young man choke back a foreign sound for a moment, while he felt that familiar sting in the corners of his eyes again. What was this he was feeling? It was like the chill he once felt before, but it was overwhelming. An emotion he doesn't know, or even able to grasp. His breaths had a faint shudder at first, and quietly sniffled to himself. Zack blinked a couple of times to make the sting within his eyes fade.

Blind or not, Gramps would've taken him in anyway, to which he was grateful, but unfortunately, he doesn't entirely know _all_ of the trauma he endured; the trauma that continues to haunt his mind.


	2. Act 1: Chapter 2

"Zack?"

"Yeah, Gramps?"

"It seems we're getting a little short on groceries, I'm going to head to the store to pick up a few things. Is there anything you need me to get?" the old man asked.

Zack slid himself off the old, tattered couch, and stretched to pop some kinks in his back, "Hold up, I'm comin' with ya'."

He slipped on his boots, a baggy hoodie, then a face mask with pair of fingerless gloves to complete his outfit. He was ready to go and help the old man out, after all, he definitely needs extra muscle to tote around their bags of groceries. Zack let the old man lead the way first, before closing the door behind themselves.

Isaac walked beside the elder, keeping up to pace with him with no signs of impatience at all. This was normal to him, just another every day thing to accompany the old man when he needed it - even if he didn't ask. It was almost like the situation he was in when he was a child, which clearly showed Gramps' influence on him. The two walked along the riverside, with Zack noticing a small few people trying to catch some fish. The town nearby was quite as bustling today, many people roamed the sidewalks, and showing various kinds of emotions near Zack and the old man. Isaac always felt some sort of boil within his blood, as agitation rose from every smiling expression he saw.

Maybe tonight, he can bust a few skulls.

"You never did answer my question, is there anything you really need?"

Zack's bi-colored eyes stopped locking on the various emotions of others and focused on Gramps beside him.

"I'm not picky," Zack replied, "...hmm...actually...it's been a while since we had bacon."

Gramps softly chuckled, "Seems to be your favorite, huh?"

Isaac smirked slightly, he'll have to admit, some foods have grown on him, and a simple breakfast entree happened to be one of them. As the two got into the busier part of town, they walked past multiple townhomes, some appeared occupied and properly decorated, while others were obviously empty and looking for tenants. Something about it caught his eye, the further he and Gramps strolled down the sideway, he noticed a familiar sight - well, partially familiar. On the steps, he could spot a young girl, sitting with a sullen expression on her face, and appearing as dead as ever. He's seen her before, back in the alley, looking all roughed up. It's none of his business anyway, and returned his gaze to face forward to where he and Gramps were headed. With no warning, the creak a door being forcibly opened was heard, followed by the thuds of angry stomps. Isaac turned around to see what the hell was going on, but the sight that caught his eye almost made his stomach turn. A blonde man, older than he is roughly collided into Gramps, prompting Zack to quickly dive for him before he could topple to the ground.

"Holy shit, Gramps...you okay?" he sputtered, then brought his attention to the bastard that nearly knocked him over. Even with the slightest whiff, he can pick up a faint scent of alcohol.

"Watch where you're going, you old fart!" the man shouted.

"How about _you_ watch where you're going, ya' fuckin' drunk asshole!"

The girl watched the conflict, unsure if she should sneak off, or continue watching - either way, she had a bewildered expression on her face. The man just stood there, blatantly not giving a damn who or what the other was, all that mattered was a wrong has been committed and the other refuses to take responsibility for it.

"What the fuck did you just call me?"

Under his mask, a devious smirk perked upon Zack's lips, "Ya' deaf too? I said _you. are. a. drunk._ _**asshole!**_ "

The blonde man grit his teeth in aggravation, clearly despising Zack's defiance, and bold attitude. He approached Zack, clenching his fists and straightening his shoulders to appear big. Isaac wasn't backing down, nor was he going to show any signs of being intimidated. The young man knows this tense atmosphere, he's felt it many times before, all the way to a bitter memory - it was pissing him off. The blonde man lunged for Zack, swinging an arm forward to direct a punch to his face, but the young man was surprisingly quick, leaning back just enough to evade the strike, while giving himself plenty of room to snag the fist with his own tight grip. The two men shot each other a glare, but Zack was quick to break it by twisting the man's wrist. The blonde grunted a pained sound, as he nearly buckled onto his knees. This amused Zack, as if proud with having such a supposed hard-ass at his mercy with a simple twist of the hand - he could take him down in any goddamn way if he wanted. Perhaps he can knock him out right now.

"Calm down, Zack...I'm alright," the old man muttered, "I just got a little disoriented, that's all. No need to cause any trouble."

Zack's off-colored eyes glanced to the old man, watching straighten himself, and carefully set themselves back to what they were doing. The grip on the blonde drunk's hand loosened, and Zack shoved him back to give him some distance away from him and from Gramps.

"Fucking piece of shit, do you know what I fucking am?" the man shouted, only for Zack to turn around and begin walking away, "I'm a cop, and I could arrest your punk ass for assaulting an officer of the law!"

Zack stood there for a moment, silent and unflinching, before turning his attention back to the raging blonde man. His opponent appeared amused for a second, like perhaps he made Zack lose his wits for a moment, after all, who would dare to get onto the bad side of the law? Isaac continued to stare at the arrogant man - god, he really fucking hated people who smiled. His fists clenched, and slammed a foot down to charge at the man. However, he stopped short at only one vicious step. Just the aggressive act alone was enough to make the blonde man jump and stumble backwards.

Zack huffed a faint laugh, seeing the "cop" would fall so easily for a mock charge, "Yer' also a spineless chickenshit too...I'm out."

He turned back around to focus on Gramps, making sure he wasn't limping or having any sort of trouble leading the way, but it appeared like he was shrugging the incident off with no problem.

The girl watched the two walk off, then to the drunk blonde man, and quickly made work to slink away into the small nook of an alley. It was like instinct told her to make some distance before trouble found her. Something else as well, like a compulsive need to follow this person who boldly stood up without any fear of retaliation - hell, bring him to his knees. The girl made her way through the small alley to catch up to the two men, and shyly stuck her head out. They're still ahead of her, even though they walked a casual pace, her anxiety was only making the distance grow larger.

"W-Wait up…"

One of the men stopped in their tracks, the younger turning around to see who called out to them. Zack noticed it was the dead-eyed girl, except, he noticed a different expression on her face - curiosity.

"Th' hell do you want?" he grunts.

Words quickly escaped her, her lips tightened and her blood ran cold for a short second, why was she bothering this person? Then she reflected on how the man stood so defiantly, "...Y-You're the first to ever stick up to my dad like that…"

"Eh?"

"You just stood up to him without caring what he might do," the girl continued, "and you just made it look so easy."

"That piece of shit is yer' dad?" Zack replied. "Hmph, no wonder you look like some kinda lifeless doll."

The girl turned her gaze away, with a slight expression of shame on her face, "...Y-Yeah…"

"So, why are ya' botherin' me? Just came t' give me a pat on the back or somethin'?"

Gramps noticed Isaac was lagging behind him, it was always a special sense of his to know when he's wandered off or if something caught his attention. The old man stopped in his tracks, and made his way to backtrack to and and see what Zack was up to. It only took him a few steps until he could sense the young man's presence again, however, he noticed someone else as well. Zack with someone, aside from sensing it, he can hear their voices as well, and the young man obviously wasn't one to strike idle talk.

"Oh, Zack...did you make a friend?"

"Huh?! What?! N-No!" Zack sputtered, in a short burst of panic.

Even the little girl in front of him appeared startled. However, the old man simply shrugged off the tension in the air, and took Zack's denial as simply being shy. After all, it took him quite a while to grow on the old man when he was young. He calmly approached the girl, while she huddled to herself in a shy manner, she was obviously not used to someone having such a calm vibe.

"Would you mind if you could have lunch with us?"

"Huuh? What about the groceries?" Zack argued.

"I-I really shouldn't, I feel like I'm suddenly imposing," the girl stuttered. Maybe she shouldn't have let curiosity got the best of her.

"No, nonsense," the man cheerfully replied, "I can make us some tea. Our home isn't very far from here, and besides...it's not often that Isaac gets to make a new friend."

"Dammit, I didn't say she's my friend! I'm a grown ass man, and she's just a brat!" Zack growled in annoyance.

"You still need to go out and make a few friends, my boy," Gramps retorts.

Zack let out a frustrated huff, before pouting at him, "Can't ya' save that crap for later? We still get groceries to pick up."

"They won't be going anywhere, don't worry."

It's clear that Gramps was ready to take this complete stranger home to enjoy some lunch and idol chat. Zack grit his teeth in annoyance about it, but he really couldn't say much about it, the old man did the same for him.

He hums out an annoyed, but defeated groan from the back of his throat, "Go on ahead of me then, I'll go pick up the grub."

It looks like _No_ wouldn't be taken for an answer, both for Zack, and this doll-like girl. He can see her mentally grasping at straws, like maybe she made a big mistake to talk to the both of them, but also confused at what she should do. Clearly from her expression, she was never treated with such kindness before, and did not know what she should do.

"Hey girl...as long as you don't mess with Gramps like yer' shitty ol' man did...then we'll be fine," he growls, then focused on the elderly man. "I'll see ya' back at the house."

Before Gramps could ask him to reconsider, Zack was already walking away from the two, and was rather quick to have made some distance. The old man let out a faint sigh, before gesturing for the girl to follow him back to their home. The young female was pretty nervous, she was going to the home of a complete stranger, but she knew she was in no danger. There were no ill vibes coming from him at all, and it seemed obvious that this old man enjoyed having some sort of company. She was surprised to see there was a house just outside of town, though, it was awfully run down - he must be one of the more impoverished people who choose to live in the outskirts to avoid trouble. When he opened the door to the shack, the girl was surprised how nicely kept it was, almost comfortably rustic. Showing proper courtesy, Gramps allowed the girl in first, before closing the door behind them, and removed his coat, so he could get a kettle going.

"I do apologize for Zack's bluntness, he's a little rough around the edges, so it takes him a while to get used to new people," the old man said, as he shuffled to the kitchen.

"I-It's alright…" the girl shyly replied. "I'm sorry, you both were busy…"

"No, it's quite fine, we don't get guests very often," Gramps replied, turning on the tap to fill up the kettle.

For such an old shack, the girl wonders how some utilities were running. Maybe since it's old, this home ran on a well, instead of being connected to the main water supply. The electricity might be run with other means, but she didn't want to put too much thought into it. She's in another home, with this strange old man making some tea, along with that brash man who stood his ground against her father. That man definitely was what piqued her curiosity.

"His name is Zack, right? Is he your grandson?"

The elderly man lit the stove to let the small fire bring the kettle to a boil, before quietly shuffling over to a small kitchen table and sitting himself down to wait. The girl didn't want to be rude, and made her way to the table as well to sit with him during this moment of idle chatter.

"No, we're not related at all," Gramps replied, "I have no children of my own. I just happen to have found him when he was young."

"Found him?"

The old man nodded, "He was sleeping in a car, while I was on one of my walks. I just happened to wake him up when I found that vehicle out of place."

The old man was ready to continue, but heard a rough knock on the door, before it opened up. Isaac had returned with a handful of groceries, before he tapped the door shut with his foot.

"Oh, that was quick."

"Yeah, just got the basic crap for now," Zack grunted, then focused his attention to the girl. He stared at her for a moment, then huffed to himself as he hauled the food into the kitchen.

The man was putting away the different types of food, then noticed the kettle on the stove. He can feel himself breaking out into a cold sweat, as his off-colored eyes focused on the flames licking underneath the metal container. With shaky hands, he backed away to set a loaf of bread in a bin where they often kept it. He needs to get far away from flame, even if it was small or controlled, just looking at it made his stomach churn.

Zack left the kitchen, only to hear Gramps and the girl talking to each other again.

"If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"

"I-It's Rachel...Rachel Gardner…" she mumbles.

"Oh, that's quite a beautiful name," Gramps replied with a soft smile.

"Th-Than-"

"Hey, Gramps…" Zack interrupts, "maybe you should check on that kettle."

He probably should, the old man pushed his chair back to get up and return to the kitchen. Zack, on the other hand, stood where he was, and slid the mask off his face to make himself comfortable within the place he calls home. Like a secondary instinct, Zack knows when eyes were on him, it almost feels like an unbearable burning sensation within his own body, and it infuriated him. His heterochromatic eyes glared at the girl, noticing she was indeed staring at him with a startled expression.

"Quit ogling me, got it?!"

"Zack, that's no way to talk to a lady," Gramps spoke.

That made Zack freeze up for a moment, then huff in annoyance, before sitting himself down. The old man was right to say that he was rough around the edges, as the girl directed her gaze away to prevent from agitating him further.

"I don't like people starin' at me like some fuckin' animal," Zack grumbled to Rachel.

"I didn't mean to come across that way, I'm sorry," Rachel mutters, "...I'm just a little curious what might've happened to you…"

Isaac raised a brow, there was a different tone in her voice, aside from the usual timid behavior - empathy. She's empathetic to his appearance. Zack lightly ground his teeth together a hummed a growl, he doesn't want her pity.

"It's none of yer' business…"

There was an awkward and still silence for a while, until Gramps shuffled back to the two with a small tray containing a teapot, some cups, and items to compliment their hot drinks. Next to it were a few slices of bread that Zack had just purchased. He set the items down onto the table, and placed the cups for each person at the table. Staying true to his manners, he allowed the younger ones to help themselves first.

"Dig in, you two," he spoke.

Rachel was obviously still sheepish to make herself at home, until she saw Zack just help himself without hesitation, grabbing a piece of bread, and shoving it into his mouth, before pouring a fill of his cup. The girl was more delicate with her approach, grasping the fragile teapot and pouring the liquid into the cup, then fixing it up to make it perfectly palatable to her taste. She quietly sipped at the warm drink, a bit taken by the sweet taste - nothing fancy, but still good. Zack just watched her in silence, while chowing down his piece of bread. Something about her just feels so odd, first she avoided him the first time they locked eyes in the alley, and how she's right here in their home.

"Hey, so what made ya' finally unbutton yer' lips?" Zack spoke, "last time I saw ya', you pretty much wanted nothin' to do with me."

"I…" the girl hesitated to speak, "I guess I was impressed by your boldness to stand up to my father like that…"

Gramps showed an expression of concern, while Zack remained stoic about it, and simply huffed at the memory of that drunk bastard.

"I never backed down to some asshole, why should I start now?"

"He's a police officer, that threat he shouted wasn't a bluff," Rachel murmured.

"I don't give a shit who or what he is, a prick is still a prick," Zack replied, "I can stick up for myself whenever the hell I want to…"

No matter who or what the opponent was, Isaac will never bend or back down - that's the bold courage that drew her to finally open up. Through the hollowed abyss within her orbs, there was a faint glimmer, either admiration or hope. Whatever it was, it was a faint twinkle of life. Zack's thoughts began to wander, her father would easily lord a power like that over others to be in control. Rachel's bruises and bloody nose, faint, but easy to see in the darkness, was his doing and bore no sense to remorse in their voice as Zack tussled with him. Of course people like him would be. That drunk bastard treating a kid in such a way…

Almost like…

"Hngh!" Zack grunted out in pain.

His hands began to shake, before burying his face within his palms, and his fingers gripping tightly at his hair. He began to breathe heavily, with a faint hint of growls following his exhalations.

Being smacked around…

Shouted at…

' _I wanna kill…_ '

Isaac's vision struggled to stay in reality, hazing in and out, as images flashed into his mind - Blood everywhere, along with a dripping, glistening knife, and his reflection shaded in red. His muscles seized for automatic control, while Zack nearly curled up into a ball at the table.

' _I wanna kill, I wanna kill, I wanna kill…_ '

Rachel had a shocked and concerned expression on her face, was Zack having some sort of seizure? She reached a hand up to try and provide aid, but quickly retreated, as soon as the man slammed his hands onto the table and stood up. Isaac panted heavily, his body quivering, with a look on his face that shows he was lost and disoriented. He grit his teeth, before he backed away, and quietly headed towards the door.

"...Stepping out…"

It was almost like he was robotic, as he exited the home. Gramps faintly sighed to himself, as if he was used to an episode like this happening before.

"I'm sorry you had to see that…" he said. "It happens from time to time, but fresh air seems to clear his head."

"What was that?"

"An episode he tends to fight every now and then," Gramps replied, "...as I was saying prior. I found that unfortunate, starving boy in a car. There was something more about him though...he smelled of blood."

"Blood?"

"Yes, and quite a hefty amount," the elderly man said, "...wherever Zack came from, it must've been an awful environment. He never talked to me about it, but he's dropped subtle hints. I've always sensed his troubles on day one. His distrust made it so plain, but being blind helps me see Zack in some other perspective. I saw rage and sorrow in him, and it's this side that makes him act out so violently at times…"

"...He...he's never been violent with you, has he?"

A gentle, but somber chuckle escaped the old man's lips, "No. Never. He would never think to do such a thing. I'm old, blind, and quite defenseless. Zack's become quite protective of me ever since he grew into a man. I wonder if he still believes that he owes me for taking him in, and gave him somewhat of a stable life compared to what may have happened to him prior."

Almost subconsciously, Gramps ran his fingers along his forearm, quietly reminiscing the toughened scar tissue he felt on Zack's arm - burns, that's what they definitely were. His expression drooped to an empathetic expression.

"Poor boy…"

* * *

Isaac was a kindred spirit, like her, she came from an unstable place. Yet, how did he escape from it? Did the mentions of blood have something to do with it? Or was it an opportunity he took to get out of it? Or perhaps...was it the reason for his bandages? She doesn't know, and Gramps only knew fragments.

The girl stepped out of the small home to see where the man could have wandered off to. The footprints didn't show that they headed towards town, but they ended at the wild grass around the property of their home. She can hear harsh grunts, and the sound of something flailing against the wind. Rachel followed the odd sound, and could see the young man with an item in hand. He was wielding a metal bat, covered here and there with scrapes and dents, yet he swung it back and forth with such a strong force, that anyone could hear it.

Zack reeled his arms back to swing the metal bat a few more times, using as much force as he can. Eventually he lowered his arms to take a short breath, but instinct nagged at him in the back of his mind that someone was within his presence. He turned around, and saw the girl was watching him.

"Finally leaving?" he mutters.

Rachel shook her head, "The old man asked me to check up on you, he was getting a little worried."

Isaac lightly rolled his eyes in response, "I'm fine...I got it out of my system…"

The heavy, awkward tension weighed between the both of them, causing a brief silence. Zack set the bat down, and used it as a prop to lean on.

"So, those shiners th' other day...those are from yer dad, wasn't it?"

The girl was confused at first, but realized that he meant her bruises and bloody nose. Zack knows the answer, but for some reason, he just has this need for confirmation. Rachel tightened her lips for a moment, as if ashamed to answer, but gently nodded. That made Zack narrow his eyes with an angered growl, it seems no matter where he went, there were always disgusting and irredeemable people - just like those sick fucks in the Orphanage. People who bring misery to others.

"How come you don't have the balls to just up and leave?"

"I could run, but my dad's a police officer, he can track me down," Rachel replied, her eyes hollowing again, "...who knows what he'll do if that ever happens…"

"...Who said he had to be alive when ya' do it?"

That alarmed the girl, as she stared at the bandaged man. There was a gleam in his golden eye, a sinister red glow of sorts that gave a clear signal for a lust of violence. Her stunned expression made Zack pause at his words, this girl isn't him, and he should watch what he says.

"Forget about it. Dipshits like him tend to get under my skin…'s all…" Zack spoke. "...Gramps seems to like ya'...he doesn't really invite much people to his house…"

He knows exactly why, not many people would be interested in entering the home of a bum, and some burned freak like himself. During the years being with him, maybe 2 people - tops, stopped by? One was supposedly some bigwig for the city, and the other was one of the pharmacists Gramps often frequented for medicine. Even if they acted friendly, Zack knew they were intimidated by his appearance. He was tall, built, dressed conservatively unlike most people, and there was always an untamed stare in his eyes. This girl though, what's her deal?

"Hey, so what's the real reason ya' came up and opened yer' trap. I get the spiel of how much of a shitstain your dad is, but somethin' tells me you got other motives. So, spill it."

"I…" Rachel hesitated, "...I want to be able to stand up for myself, like you. I was wondering if you should show me."

Such a request was met by a jeering laugh, "Show you? Please. A lil' girl like you won't have the guts."

"I won't know unless you teach me!" she insisted, almost raising her voice to retort. "...I'm just tired. I'm really tired of being someone else's scapegoat, as well as their punching bag…"

Isaac grit his teeth, he knows that frustration all too well. That vile feeling of being something other than human, and being forced into it - monster, freak, _tool_ …

History will surely repeat.

"Fine, whatever…" Zack mumbled, under his breath, "but, I'm not to blame when ya' one day snap n' off your dad...got it?"

Rachel quickly nodded in response, almost feeling a new sense of hope.

"You swear?"

"Anything that comes out of my mouth, isn't a lie."

* * *

 _Knock, knock, knock!_

"Christ...who the fuck is it?"

Isaac sleepily picked himself up from the couch, his hair was a ruffled mess, while the blanket rested at his lap. It's fairly bright inside the shack, which meant it was possibly a mix between late morning and early afternoon. Gramps must be out walking around this time.

 _Knock, knock, knock!_

"Calm yer' tits, I'm comin'!"

Slowly, he picked himself up from the cushioned furniture, and slipped on his hoodie to make himself comfortable. He grasped the doorknob, and opened the door to see just who was on the other side. His heterochromatic eyes blearily looked around for who was there, but realized they were much shorter than him, so he focused his attention downward, and spotted the girl from before.

"Huh? What are you doing here?"

"I snuck out from my house. You promised to show me how to stick up for myself, remember?" Rachel replied.

Zack tiredly raised a brow, until the memory hit him like a brick, "Oh right...yeah, I did promise that…"

The man rubbed at his eyes a little, then stepped aside to grab his boots. The girl was patient for Zack to set himself straight, before heading out for the day. He stepped out and closed the door behind him. Rachel watched him walk ahead of her, before signalling the girl to follow to wherever he went. Zack lead her behind the home, walking into the patch of forest, almost losing the home within sight.

"How much should I pay you for teaching me?"

Zack let out a soft groan, "I don't need yer' cash...you can pay me in some grub. Just feed me when my stomach starts growlin'."

This was a surprise, he valued food much more than currency. She recalled the words Gramps spoke to her, how Zack was found starving, and where he came from was unstable - which meant he must've picked up his own kind of priorities.

"Hey Zack…" she beckons, "...have you...gone through the same kind of troubles as me?

That almost made Zack want to let out a bitter laugh, but only a grunt hummed in his throat, "Worse…"

Isaac continued on a little further until he felt like they went deep enough into the woods, he turned around and stared right at the girl. Before anyone knew it, he roughly grabbed her by the shoulders and pinned her against one of the trees. Rachel was startled by this sudden movement, but her body didn't respond. It was as if it was accustomed to treatment like this. Alone, and deep in the woods, she should've known that she walked right into a trap. Zack stared into the girl's blue eyes and saw that look from before - that dead and hollow abyss, completely devoid of life. She's practically given up before she even tried.

"Christ, you're boring…" Zack mumbled, "aren't ya' going to do something about this? Squirm? Thrash? Fight back? Come the fuck on, do something! I could do anything I want with you, if yer' just gonna sit there."

"But...you're bigger than me...I won't win…"

"Haah? Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Zack grunted, "winning doesn't fucking matter, it's about saving your ass! Yer' a small brat, you can easily wriggle free and run off. So go on, kick or scratch at me. I can fuckin' take it!"

Uncertainty was on the girl's face, but quickly made an attempt to squirm free. There was no strength behind her effort - hell, he had a stronger fight from his very first murder, but this is pathetic. He grumbled in annoyance, then lowered his arms to let the girl go, and watched her drop to her knees.

"I knew you didn't have it in you…go home."

The girl watched Zack back away from her, unimpressed by her tries, and ready to go back to his own home. Rachel felt a sinking feeling within herself, this is her one chance, and already it's slipping away.

"No!" she shouted desperately. The girl got up to her feet, and stared at the man, "Do it again."

Isaac raised a brow, even with her dead eyes, she appeared rather serious. He breathed out a huff a pitied amusement, she's such easy pickings and he knows it, but her determination was admirable. Disinterest continued to be displayed within his body language, as he slowly walked off into the direction of his home - until his eyes locked right back onto the girl, and thrust his arm forward to ensnare her again. Rachel felt a twinge within her core, and her body began to work autonomously. Her legs sprung, and allowed her to dodge Zack's attempt at pinning her.

They were both surprised that something actually happened, however, just because she dodged once, doesn't mean that was the end of it. Another thing about Isaac was, he was quick, perhaps even quicker than any normal person. Every lunge of the hand was almost like the speed of a striking snake, as if he was determined to capture his prey. His hand finally grasped the girl's wrist, preventing her from dodging yet again, and pulled her close to shove her against a tree again. She was pinned, just like before, except, Zack noticed a stronger fight in her. She squirmed in his grip, trying her best to wriggle her body free from the man's grip. It's not just the thrashing of her body, but her hands tried desperately to give her the space needed to break free, and she began to kick as well - perhaps, a little _too_ closely. Rachel's legs kicked back and forth, almost landing right between his legs, actually causing a short burst of panic through Zack for a moment. He moved his hips back just enough to avoid getting kicked, and loosens his grip on the girl.

"Watch it!"

The girl slipped from Zack's grip and dropped onto the ground, and winced a little, "...but you said to kick, and that you could ta-"

"I know what I fuckin' said!" he cut her off, "...but how the hell am I supposed to teach ya jackshit, if ya' go and kick me in the junk?"

A blush quickly creeped upon Rachel's cheeks, and she hid her embarrassed expression within her hands. She can't believe she almost incapacitated the man without even thinking about it. Seeing her act like something else besides some emotionless doll made a smile form on Zack's lips, it was amusing really.

"Hey...what's yer' name again?"

The girl's expression calmed a little, "I-It's Rachel...Rachel Gardner."

"Rachel, huh?" Zack mumbled. Then began to walk back towards the home, "Welp, let's get going, Ray…"

"Did you just call me…?"

"If ya' want me to teach ya' how to grow a backbone, then hurry your ass up! I'm fuckin' starving," Zack growled.

Rachel was surprised by this nickname, but deep down, it made a strange warmth twitch within her chest - a happy and fluttering feeling. A small, gentle grin formed on her lips, and followed the man out of the woods, and back to his home. Isaac waited on Rachel to catch up with him, then gestured the girl to follow him to wherever he planned to head to next. She saw he was heading into town, while digging through his hoodie's pockets for the facemask he had on yesterday. It's plain to see that Zack's bandages must be a sensitive subject for him, especially when it came to stares, getting snapped at about them was enough. Zack lead the way through town, ignoring every person to walked by, and glaring at those who dared to stare at him. Ray quietly followed behind him to wherever he had in mind to go. She can smell the scents of various food cooking, along with hearing the faint grumble of Zack's hungry belly, his destination was definitely the areas where the shops were more restaurant-heavy - he wanted to be paid in a meal, after all.

"Where do you want to eat?" Ray asks.

"Yer' the one payin', so pick wherever - food's food to me."

That would make things easy, she scanned the many different eateries within the area, and noticed a deli and sandwich shop that had a rather pleasing smell. There was a small crowd, which was a relief to Zack, less irritation to make him lose his appetite. Ray glanced up at the menu and noticed they had a good selection, with reasonable prices to boot. When she turned to ask Zack what he wanted, she noticed a confused expression on his face, like he was staring at something completely foreign.

"Is something wrong?"

He didn't answer, as he brought a hand up to feel at the menu.

"...What the fuck does this say?"

Rachel glanced back at the menu again, the words were pretty big to read, especially for patrons who just want to come in and out with their order. Then, a thought hit her.

"You can't read?"

Zack flinched, then glared at the girl, "I _can_ read, dammit! I just...do it differently…"

She stared at the man's hands, he wore fingerless gloves, where she could see scarred and calloused fingers running across the menu. Suddenly, she recalled Gramps - he was blind, and Zack grew up with him. So for him to read _differently_ , that must mean, he's trying to read Braille. It makes sense now. The girl approached the counter, leaving the confused Zack to his devices, and spoke to one of the workers at the cashier. They sweetly smiled to her and handed her a pamphlet to give to Zack.

"Here, try this," Ray said, handing him the sheet of paper.

It was a blank sheet of paper, no pictures, but just rows of bumps. Rachel observed Zack's expression, and noticed familiarity as soon as he ran his digits along the pamphlet - her assumptions were true.

"Hey...mind if I get somethin' for Gramps too?"

"Go ahead," Ray replied. "What did you have in mind?"

Zack ran his fingers across the bottom of the menu, "...Stew, I guess...he's been having a tough time chewing lately…"

' _Zack's become quite protective of me ever since he grew into a man._ '

For such a gruff man, Isaac really did show care and concern for the old man. She won't blame him, the elder was very kind-hearted.

"Alright, I think I got an idea what I want…" Zack prattled, "club sandwich, extra meat."

Rachel glanced at the pictures on the menu, and saw the stacked sandwich with beef, turkey, and ham all smooshed into one sandwich. Somehow, she was not surprised. She snapped out of her little bubble, when she felt Zack poke at her with the slip of paper.

"Get somethin' for you too...a pipsqueak like you needs to grow."

That earned a pout from the girl, amusing Zack yet again. It only took a few minutes for Rachel to place the order, and have it all constructed, then backed up for them to take home or eat at one of the tables. Given Zack's nature, she can assume he would prefer to eat in a private place where he felt safe, and home would definitely be the spot.

"All set?" Zack asked, only to see her nod in reply, "Good...let's head back."

* * *

"I told ya' to get somethin' for yourself…"

"I'm not all that hungry," Ray protested.

"Yer' not gonna get much tougher if you starve yourself, ya' know?" Zack grumbled, he grabbed the bigger plastic bag from the girl and dug inside. He pulled out a couple of fries, sticking one into his mouth to snack on, but handed the bigger fry to the girl.

"Eat."

He wasn't going to take no for an answer, so Rachel relented, and grabbed the fried food from Zack's fingers.

"Take advantage of getting a meal, while you can," Zack continued, "...sometimes you just never know when you'll never get it again…"

Rachel glanced at the fry, as she pondered over his words. Food must be very valuable to him, especially after what the old man had told her about Zack - found distrustful and starving. He must've been deprived of food for such a long time. Taking his words into consideration, she quietly ate the food that was given to her.

The two made their way back to the small shack in the outskirts of town, Isaac noticed someone was sitting at the front porch, he was wary at first if it was someone undesirable, but something stuck out that helped Zack recognize the individual - an old straw hat. Gramps was home, and enjoying the warm sunlight after his usual walks. He turned his head and focused his attention towards the two coming is way, sensing their presence drawing near.

"Ah, Zack...I wasn't expecting you to be out today, what's the occasion?" Gramps asked, then perked his head up a little, as if he noticed something different, "...someone is with you."

"It's the same brat from yesterday," Zack replied, then dug into the plastic bag to pull out a styrofoam pint, "here...got ya' somethin' to eat."

The old man gently grasped the item, then felt Zack hand him the plastic utensil that came with it, "Oh, thank you. I am getting a little hungry."

He turned his attention back to the girl, sensing she was beside the gruff man. A soft, but teasing grin appeared on his mustached face, "See? I knew you made a friend."

Isaac gave Gramps a stern pout in annoyance, "I ain't her damn friend...I'm just keepin' my word about teaching her some stuff to get her off my back."

"Heh...sure thing, Zack," Gramps teased again.

The man hummed a groan, then stood back to let the man eat his meal, "Look, I'mma head around the back for a bit. It'll be just a moment."

"Take all the time you need, Zack," Gramps replied, then waved to Ray, "It's nice seeing you again."

Rachel gave the old man a gentle grin, before waving back to him, "You too, mister."

Isaac led the both of them back to the area of the woods where he pinned her. He sat himself down and pulled out the assortment of food all boxed up, and flipped open the lid to dig into his meal. Rachel can see his eyes light up, food really was a strong motivator for him - a luxury, even. The man grabbed the large sandwich and chowed down without thinking twice on how to tackle it. How he devoured his food, it was almost treated like it could be his last meal.

After a few large chomps, Isaac focused back on the girl again - something about her left him a bit curious, especially given she asked him for self defense advice.

"Hey...is it just you and yer' shitty dad at your place?"

Rachel paused at the man's question, "No, my mother is there too...she...she's just…"

"I take it she gets smacked around too."

Ray kept quiet at his response, but reluctantly nodded, "Y-Yeah…"

"So, what about her? She don't have the guts to leave yer' dad?"

The girl faintly sighed, "...actually, she's just as bad as him. Except, she's more vocal than physical."

"Ah...one of _those_ bitches…" Zack grumbled. Then huffed a mocking laugh, "Sounds like yer' folks were made for each other."

"I suppose...when I was very young...things were never like that…now, they fight constantly, and at times, I often get dragged into it."

"True colors tend to show eventually, don't take it personally," Zack replied.

Deep down, Isaac knows this feeling, this inner isolation with no allies to help or even give some sort of encouragement. It's lonely, but also a harsh dose of reality - the only ally is yourself, if you want to live another day. The more his heterochromatic eyes stared at this doll-like girl, the more he can see himself, a broken child who had been battered and left to fend for themself. A child that is on the verge of a breaking point. It's that thought that slowly made his stomach want to turn in disgust. If he ignored her or left her all alone, chances are, she probably would end up like him.

A memory flashed in the back of his mind, making him grit his teeth - a dark night, silenced by death, until a bloodcurdling cackle filled the blood-stained room. His first murder. The memory still leaves a bitter damn tastes in his mouth, bitter, but also, _sweet_. He shook the thought from his head, and focused his attention on the girl again. He grumbled to himself, then dug his fingers into the other half of his sandwich, tearing it apart, and setting it onto the untouched half of fries. He scarfed down what he had left, then handed his share of food to the girl.

"Here, take it. After yer' done eating, we'll finish where we left off."

 _There was no one. No one at all. All alone. Isolated. Tormented. Left to fester. Left to hate. Left to become a monster…_

* * *

"Alright, now fucking kick! _Hey!_ Not there! I told you _not_ to kick there!"

They were at it again, Isaac was teaching Rachel to fight her way out of being grappled and pinned, and the results were definitely showing. Ray wriggled her way free each time, and whenever she couldn't she made sure to thrash hard to get Zack to let go. Hell, she even fought him back before he had a chance to grab her - something he did not teach her yet. Isaac was damn impressed with her ability to learn quickly, or use her wits about her. Clearly, there was more about her that was being repressed with her shitty life. Zack lunged for the girl again, feeling her slap his hand away from her, but she didn't count on his other hand grabbing her by the shirt, and picking her up from the ground. The man smirked menacingly at her as he had her at his mercy, yet he was also curious how this girl could think of how to get herself free. Yet, she stayed motionless.

"C'mon...giving up already?"

"You told me to watch where I kick...and...well, it's the only place to think of where to do it, if I need to break free from this situation," Ray stoically replied.

So blunt, yet so calm - it was almost a little scary. Zack shyly huffed with the roll of the eyes, then dropped the girl from his grip, looks like she already had a plan before she could act on it, "Smart ass. Well, whatever. Ya' got the basics down. So, don't go taking anyone's shit, got it? It's your job now to look out for your own skin."

One thing bugged him though, almost like a sense of dread, "...by the way...how bad is it over at yer' place?"

That made Ray curious as to why Zack needed to know, but, it was almost a relief to have a listening ear, "You've seen my father drunk when he tried to pick a fight with you. It's a common thing. After a long day of work, he drinks. Sometimes he doesn't come home the next day, sometimes he does, and when he does...he's very violent. My mother is a very bitter woman, as I said before, she chooses to use words as her weapon, and because of it, she and my father get into very heated fights. I'm either caught in the crossfire or dragged right into it as some sort of leverage. I really hate it, I hate being used as a weapon or a scapegoat, but...it's become so recent...so regular...this is normal to me now."

' _That's not normal...it's being numb…_ '

"Well, if ya' wanna break from your ' _normal_ ' life...Gramps would appreciate your company…" Zack muttered, keeping his gaze away to avoid appearing soft. Then, something sparked in his mind, "Shit, speakin' of...I should check on him. Let's get the hell outta here."

Their business was done with for the day, Isaac slid his hands into his hoodie pockets for comfort, while he lead the both of them out of the forest. Everything seemed fine, until he felt a snag at his sleeve, the man groaned in annoyance and tugged to get himself free. The sleeve was stuck on a jagged branch, with no signs of it coming off so easily, and with him yanking himself free so roughly, the sharp wood pulled at the piece of clothing. A loud rip followed from the annoyed grunts, until it suddenly shut Zack up, he watched as a large hole tore itself in the sleeve of his hoodie with little effort.

"Are you f-?...God dammit!" he swore.

He stared at the gaping hole in his clothing, then angrily grabbed at the small branch to break it apart.

"Man, this is my favorite fuckin' hoodie!"

The girl walked up to the irritated man, and grasped at his arm to take a look at the damage, "This doesn't look too bad."

"Are ya' blind or somethin'? Look at it!"

"I can fix it, I'm pretty good at sewing," Ray replied.

Isaac looked at her with a raised brow, then rolled his eyes in annoyance - may as well take her word for now. They approached the old home, with Zack entering the place first, and holding the door open for the girl behind him. Gramps was nowhere to be seen, but he spotted the plastic utensil in the kitchen sink. He'll check on him while the girl was busy. Isaac did recall seeing a sewing kit, when the old man often patched up his tattered coat, and dug around the place to figure out where it was stored. He opened cabinets and closets, and even tossed some fabric around until he noticed a small tin. With a short rattle, he can hear small pieces of metal shuffling in the tin, along with something slightly bigger.

"Here...use this," Zack said, as he gave her the small tin.

The girl opened up the tin, and saw an assortment of threads, and some needles - both straight and bent. She picked up a straight needle and got to work to threading it, while Isaac unzipped his hoodie. With little to no warning, Zack tossed the article of clothing towards her, watching it land right at her face. Ray almost dropped her equipment from the short burst of shock, then broke herself from being stunned. Zack let out a short laugh, while the girl removed the clothing from her face and shook herself to her senses. Then, her blue eyes got a glance at Zack's physical appearance. Like his face, his torso was also adorned in bandages, leaving his hands alone for his gloves to cover. This surprised her, but her eyes also focused on his build. Despite living in a life of poverty, he was surprisingly well fed and definitely built - it was enough to make heat creep upon her face. Ray shook herself again, this time, blushing from embarrassment. Zack, however, didn't think much of her adverting her eyes, he was more interested in checking up on Gramps, while the girl worked on fixing up his hoodie. He approached the old man's bedroom, and quietly opened the door to take a peak. Just as he thought, the old man was taking a quick nap after his meal. It gave Zack a sense of relief, and he closed the door to let him continue resting. With that giving Zack a piece of mind, he returned to the living room, and pulled up a chair to watch Rachel patching up his clothing. He sat in it facing the opposite direction, using the back to rest his arms on as he focused on the girl's movements. In and out the needle went into the hoodie, sealing the tear with little to no effort - it was almost hypnotic.

"I'm surprised yer' not scared of me…" he mumbles.

Ray paused to look up at the man, "What do you mean? Why should I be scared?"

"Don't I look like a monster to you?"

For Gramps to inform her of Zack's distrust in others, then self-doubt must also be part of that package, especially over his bandaged appearance - even having him snap at her yesterday was proof enough. The girl lightly shook her head, Zack was intimidating in other ways, but his appearance didn't scare her at all.

"Not at all, you're just another person, like me."

Isaac stayed quiet, then watched Rachel hold up the hoodie to observe her handiwork. She appeared quite proud how it looked, almost like it was barely noticeable. A small grin appeared on Ray's face, before taking the sewing items to set them back into the tin. With the job done, she handed the article clothing to the man for him to redress in.

Zack grasped the hoodie, then slid it on, without thinking twice about it, "...Y'know...yer' the second person to say that...tell me that I'm...normal…"

"Well, I'm honest. I know you have all those bandages, but after hanging out with you...I know that you're just another person," Ray spoke, "...someone that kind of gets where I'm coming from."

Isaac lightly ruffled the girl's golden hair, unsure to be honored or annoyed, "Yeah sure...thanks for patchin' up my hoodie."

That acknowledgement for a good deed filled Rachel with a warmth inside herself, something very pleasant. It was a feeling she hasn't felt since she was very small, from a very distant and blurry memory. Getting a positive reinforcement, it coaxed a smile upon her face - small, but innocent. It was different than the smaller grins she gave him earlier, even different from the different smiling faces he's seen day to day that annoyed the hell out of him. Something about her smile threw his mind through a loop, like it paused while trying to process what he's seeing - so sincere and alive, but her dead, doll-like eyes seemed to cancel it out.

A strange tension settled between them until the girl pulled out a small device from her pocket to check the time.

"I-I should get going, my parents will get suspicious if I'm out for too long."

Isaac huffed, "You don't gotta put up with their bullshit, remember that."

Rachel nodded, and waved him goodbye, before leaving the home. He can hear her run off, until the thuds of her footsteps could no longer be heard. He exhaled a heavy sigh, while his fingers raked through his messy black hair. Zack dropped himself onto the couch, as he tried to figure out everything that happened today - he hung out with this girl, conversed with her, and lowered his guard, just like with Gramps. It's strange, but very damn annoying.

' _Why does Gramps want me to hang out with her anyway?_ ' he thought to himself.

He's never steered Zack wrong before, hell, that's why he's the man he is now. However, pressing him to go out and talk, even make a friend, it's weird.

' _I'm getting on in age, and I won't be around forever…_ '

He's said it plenty of times before, even as Zack was growing through his teen years.

' _Don't say shit like that, Gramps...you're too damn stubborn to just up and kick the bucket…_ '

Those always seemed to be the magic words for the old man to keep going for another year, but still...it feels so somber.

Zack shook his head for a moment, wanting to shake such thoughts out of his mind, and figure out what he wanted to do next. His off-colored eyes glanced at the window, and watched the glare of the sun start to dim into the dark of night. Somehow, his thoughts went back to the girl, is she really taking his advice into heart? Hell, did he make things worse, now she can fight back? Nostalgia began to rush through Zack, and not in a good way. Images began to flash in his head yet again, making the man groan in frustration, while he gripped at the sides of his head. This nostalgia was all he ever felt since being around the girl - the urge to kill is rising within him again, but he knows this isn't a strong episode like earlier. He can just go smack a few heads to sate it.

The man grumbled, as he picked himself up from the couch, and stepped outside - where he kept his trusty bat.

"Twenty, forty, fifty…"

Isaac was hunched over a new victim, he had a few dollar bills in hand, as he counted the amount he's gathered. Learning currency was something he's done on his own through observation - well, the paper currency, coins were too much of a pain in the ass.

"Fifty seven bucks…" he mumbled aloud, before pocketing the cash.

He stared at the unconscious man on the ground, seeing a small trickle of blood pool at his head, but continued to exhale shallow breaths. A sense of dissatisfaction continued to loom over him, like instinct was telling Zack that he wasn't finished. The man shrugged off such a small nag, his desire for violence was already quelled by his mugging - three people was more than enough for now. He needs to head home, before people would get suspicious - plus, having a big wad of cash would bringing some unwanted _friends_. The last thing he needs is for Gramps to be bothered with what he's been doing.

As Zack snuck his way back home, his mind reflected on that girl again, despite the nostalgia he feels, there was this other inner thought occuring in his mind - she's just like him in a way, growing up in a shit environment from the very start.

"She'll snap one day...dunno how, but she's gonna butcher them all…" Zack thought aloud, as his familiar safeplace was within view. "She'll never get rid of that desire to do it again…"

Even now, he's still fighting that craving within himself, and dropped off the contorted bat to be used for another day. Isaac entered the home, where he took out the wad of cash, and pulled open an old floorboard to stash it in until tomorrow. He wants to sleep, and just cleanse his mind of these thoughts. However, he knows he's right, no matter how he'll try and sleep it off, the girl was a potential ticking time bomb, delaying on borrowed time - for a reason to finally explode.

Just like him.


	3. Act 1: Chapter 3

The morning sun peeked through the windows, brightening the little shack called home. Isaac grumbled from the light disturbing his sleep, and groggily opened his eyes. He let out a yawn, before sliding himself off of the couch. Like it was a normal routine, he went to check the table for a note that Gramps would leave him, but the table was quite bare. He was confused at first, until he heard harsh coughs.

That made Zack's blood run cold for a moment, as he rushed over to Gramps' room. He opened the door to take a look inside, and saw the old man laying there, patting at his chest from the phlegm building up.

"Hey Gramps...are you alright?"

The old man turned his attention towards Zack's voice, and offered him a comforting smile, "It's nothing to worry yourself over, Zack...I just caught myself a little bug. Some rest will do me good."

It didn't sound like a little bug to Zack, the old man was breathing heavily, his blanket sat at his midsection - as if it was too hot to bundle up, and he noticed a slight wheeze in between breaths.

"If it's not too much trouble, do you mind picking up some medicine?"

"Y-Yeah…" Zack fumbled, "Yeah, just chill and get some sleep. I'll be back in a bit."

He motioned the door to close, leaving it slightly cracked open, and walked over to the loose floorboard where he kept his cache of money. Zack reached in and grabbed a couple bundles of cash that could cover the expense at the pharmacy. He grabbed his hoodie, and immediately noticed the area where Rachel had stitched it up, he ran his calloused fingers over it, hardly noticing much of where the tear used to be, thanks to her handiwork. The man slipped it on, followed by his gloves, and a scarf to cover his face. He stepped out of the shack, and quickly walked toward the direction of town. Like every other day, Zack kept to himself, ignoring the expressions on everyone's faces that normally got under his skin - he has his own priorities to deal with right now. No one else seemed to bother him or stop to stare, until he could hear a familiar and agitating voice. Hell, even if Zack wasn't listening in, he can sense that toxic vibe. Isaac picked his head up, and noticed the man from before; Rachel's father. He has no time to deal with this asshole's bullshit.

Isaac continued on his path, not bothering to start any sort of interaction at all, but he still kept himself on his toes, should the jackass try anything sneaky. The middle-aged man quickly locked eyes on Zack.

' _Well, fuck…_ '

It was obvious this man was going to block his path, in some attempt to show authority to Zack, even to size him up. Isaac just stood there, making no emotion, or movement - he only watched.

"I didn't forget about you...or what you did…" he said, glaring right at the younger man. "I should arrest you right now."

"Pft...for what?" Zack said, hiding his smug grin under his scarf. "I wasn't aware that runnin' errands could land ya' in the slammer."

Mr. Gardner grit his teeth, as his blood boiled over Zack's show of defiance yet again.

"Guess you got a whooole lotta people to arrest," Zack continued, then gestured for him to shoo, "better start gettin' busy."

"You got a fuckin' smart mouth, ya' know that?"

"Then I guess I'm the only smart one outta the both of us," he quipped.

In another bold display of giving zero fucks, he continued on his way, and shoved the man from his path. He was not going to be bother now or ever, especially since he has someone to take care of today. Rachel peeked from her window, she watched Zack just push her father aside with ease, but she knew better, from watching her parents fight, her father did not like someone who took away his feeling of power, and would do anything to display his dominance. Her instincts were right, her father quickly turned around and moved to lunge towards Zack while his back was turned. As Isaac continued to walk on, Mr. Gardner charged with a fist reeled back and ready to give him a blow to the head. There was no chance for a connection, Zack quickly turned to the side, and stuck a leg out to hit the man at the knees. He watched Rachel's father topple to the ground, and get scraped up by the concrete sidewalk. The younger man knows better, he does this all the time for a living, so he knows all the tricks to sneaking an attack from behind.

Rachel took this as her cue to sneak out of her home.

Zack just watched as Mr. Gardner tried to pick himself up, he just grunts uin annoyance, and nonchalantly pushed him back down with his boot.

"I got no time to deal with petty chickenshits like you, so go play somewhere else…" he said, before picking up his foot, and continuing on his way.

He left him to lick at his wounds, and sulk alone. Zack does not care who messes with him; they could be a beggar to a cop, it wouldn't matter, he won't let anyone stand in his way. Zack is only looking out for himself, and for Gramps as well.

The pharmacy door chimed its welcoming bell, alerting the workers inside that a customer had just stepped in.

A fairly older woman glanced over to the door, and gave the customer a friendly look of familiarity, "Hello, Zack...running errands for your grandfather again?"

Having someone greet him so warmly feels so weird to him, it makes his stomach twinge a little, probably an old self defense mechanism that never really went away. Still, he did learn that the pharmacy was a safe place, and the people who worked there were perfectly fine with his appearance.

"Y-Yeah...I'm pickin' up some medicine for the old man," Zack said, as he slid the scarf down. "...he's very sick."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, is it serious? Should you take him to a doctor?"

Isaac nibbled at his bottom lip for a moment, he hoped to god that Gramps' illness was as small as the old man made it to be.

"...I'll keep an eye on him," Zack hesitantly replied, "if it gets worse, I'll haul him to the doc."

The woman always appreciated Zack's honesty, and walked around the counter to help the young man out, "Maybe I can help you pick out the appropriate medicine. Can you tell me what his symptoms are?"

"He's been coughing alot, and breathing pretty heavily," Zack said, "...I think he has a fever too."

"Does he have a sore throat?"

"I don't think so, but it sounds like he's all gunked up when he tries to talk."

The woman tried to think over the elderly man's symptoms, if Isaac was keeping watch over his health then perhaps she might know what the issue was.

"Hmm, sounds like he has bronchitis," she said, then lead him down the aisle. "The best I can offer is some over the counter painkillers to help reduce the fever, and some cough medicine. Make sure he drinks plenty of fluids, and gets some rest."

The woman picked out the appropriate medicine, and even went out her way to print out instructions in Braille for the young man to read. While he was still there, he made sure to stock up on some cold bottled water, to keep Gramps hydrated. He waited for the pharmacist to ring up his items, where he took out his wad of cash, and paid the amount owed. Isaac watched as she delicately placed his purchases in separate bags, and handed it to him. With his errand done, he nodded as a silent thank you, and pulled the scarf back over his face.

As he opened the door to the shop, the woman wanted to shout out one more thing to him, "I hope he gets better soon!"

Yeah, so does he.

He stepped out of the pharmacy, and went back down the same path he came from. As he approached that familiar home belonging to Rachel and her family, he didn't spot that drunken bastard anywhere. Thank god for that, Zack was not interested in having round 2 with the guy today, he probably wouldn't control himself like he did just recently. He does wonder though if Rachel is probably going to have to deal with his bullshit later. That's one problem he'll have to put aside, Gramps needs his medicine.

Once he stepped out of the town's boundaries, he entered the more wooded and rural areas, until he spotted the familiar riverside. He entered the old shack, and headed over to the kitchen to fetch a glass for the bottled water. He placed the extra bottle down and filled the glass, then pulled out the instructions and ran his fingers along the paper to read what the proper dosage was. He shook out the appropriate amount of painkillers to help reduce his fever, then poured some cough syrup onto the provided dosage cup. He kept the medicines in one hand, and carried the glass of water in the other. He saw the door remained in its crack position, and used his foot to nudge it open. Zack peeked his head in and saw Gramps was still resting in bed, yet his breaths will maintained that wheeze.

Isaac quietly approached the bed, and set the items on a nightstand, so he could wake him up.

"Hey, Gramps...I'm back…"

The old man jolted a little from surprise, then pat at his body to sense Zack's hand was on his shoulder, "Oh, Zack...welcome back...sorry, I was just resting my eyes…"

"All good, you do need some rest," Zack said, with half a smirk. "I gotcha some meds…sit up for a bit so I can hand em to ya'."

"Oh, thank you."

The old man carefully raised his upper half up, and rested it against the pillows, as Zack picked up the items and set them in his hands. He gave Gramps the cough syrup first to help suppress his painful cough, then the glass of water to help wash down the bitter taste. Once he took back the now empty dosage cup, he gave the elderly man the painkillers for his fever. After another swig of water, Gramps set the glass onto the night stand, and laid his body down.

"Thank you again, Zack" said Gramps, "I'm glad to have you stick around for so long…"

Isaac was quiet for a moment, then watched as the old man settled in his bed, and eventually drift off to sleep. He noticed the wheezing had ceased, and he was sleeping a little more peacefully. Zack's barely worried over anyone but this old man, and knowing it'll all eventually end, fills him with dread.

 _Knock, knock, knock!_

Isaac snapped out from his thoughts, and got up to answer the door. He wasn't expecting anyone, not even for Gramps. He approached the door, but decided to lean over to the window, and glimpse at who was waiting to answer. A small blonde and shy girl, Rachel.

Slowly, the door cracked open, with Zack looking right at the girl, "What do you want?"

"I need to hide out for a while, my dad's in a pretty sour mood," Ray said, "Is that okay with you?"

Zack was unsure at first, but then again, he knows that _he_ was the reason why her father was in a shit mood - even though the bastard was the one that started it. He rolled his eyes for a moment, giving in to her plea, and stepped aside to let her into his home.

"Just don't make a racket, Gramps is sick and needs some shut eye."

Ray nodded in agreement, and walked in. She took off her shoes, so she could roam around without disturbing the sleepy elder in the other room. Zack watched the girl sit herself on the couch, though she had a rather stressed look on her face.

"I take it yer' dad is lookin' around for a punching bag?"

"Y-Yeah...you can say that. I saw what happened, and snuck out as soon as you began to walk away," Rachel replied. "All I heard as the sound of my dad stomping through the house. My mother must be taking the brunt of his anger...I'm worried about going back though, things could get worse."

"Ya' gotta learn to look out for only yourself. It's the only way to survive," Zack grunted, then he focused on his hands. His calloused and scarred fingers were once covered in bandages soaked in blood - the day he finally left the Orphanage. "If shit seems to only get worse...then...sometimes ya' gotta take matters into yer' own hands."

He did, with a large kitchen knife, and recalled every harsh stab he gave to the proprietors. Each strike was powered by his pure rage and hatred for those who wronged him, leaving him in a haze, until he noticed his first victims stopped fighting back. Blood pooled at his feet, along with the stench of iron that mixed with death and decay. Then, he recalled how he felt after all that - a sadistic glee, enough to make him laugh at the top of his lungs.

Rachel could hear those pained groans again, and saw Zack hunch over, as he grasped at the sides of his head. His body was shaking, and he was panting heavily. This episode appeared to be much stronger than before, as it rendered the man to collapse onto his knees. The girl began to panic, and jumped to her feet to help Zack. As soon as she approached, she saw his gold eye stare at her with a red and savage gleam in his eyes.

"Stay back!" he growled.

He let go of his throbbing head, and pushed himself back onto his feet. Rachel stood by confused and concerned, as Zack rushed out the door.

Zack gripped at his hair, as the images of his murder flashed in his head again. He could feel a crazed smile form at his lips, and a chuckle rumble in the back of his throat. He's slipping, and he can feel himself losing control. Without having time to think, Isaac turned to the side of the house, and proceeded to harshly slam his forehead onto the sturdy wood. The thoughts left him for one split second, until Zack reeled his head back, and hit his head again, and again, until the urges faded away. There was a sensation trickling down Zack's forehead, something liquid. The foreign sensation was enough to help reel back to his senses. He slid down onto his knees, as reality was coming to him. These episodes were a huge strain mentally and physically, while he sat there, panting heavily, and regaining his focus to where he was now. His mismatched eyes slowly gazed upwards at the side of the house, where he can see the imprint of where he smacked his forehead, but also blood. Zack brought a hand up, and touched at the area where he felt the sensation. It was a warm and thick liquid dripping drown his brow, he withdrew his fingers to see that familiar crimson color - he did end up breaking skin.

' _I can't keep fighting this_ …' he thought to himself, '... _one day...I won't snap out of it...fuck, just a little longer...for the old man_ …'

With wobbly legs, Zack pushed himself to stand back up, and hobbled over to the front door. Rachel had heard the loud thumps coming from outside, which only added to her worry, but once she saw Isaac step back inside, she almost panicked.

"Zack, your head!"

"Keep it the fuck down," Zack harshly whispered. "...I'm fine…"

Ray rushed up to him, "You're bleeding, Zack...you're not fine…"

Before the man could growl or argue, Rachel grabbed the man by the wrists and dragged him over to the kitchen. Zack was flabbergasted for a moment, this feeble girl was dragging him around effortlessly, and she had this look on her face like a disappointed parent - he really didn't know what to think of it. She turned on the tap, and grabbed a rag to dampen it. She tugged at the man's sleeve to quietly instruct him to bend over, so she could help clean the blood off and tend to his wound. He winced from the sting, as the water cleaned off the excess blood from his wound, however, the bandages had soaked up a good amount of his blood, and she needed to take them off to help clean him off. When Zack felt fingers touch at his wrappings, he smacked her fingers away and moved his head aside.

"...Just gimme the rag...I'll take care of it," Zack grumbled. "...Turn around too."

Going by Zack's reaction, Rachel went inside his personal bubble without consent the moment she touched his wrappings. She mentally kicked herself for doing so, and not considering the man's feelings about it earlier.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable…"

He watched her turn around, with her head hanging in shame. Zack rolled his eyes for a moment, as he turned himself around, and tugged at the wrappings on his head. He felt the bandages slip off his face, and a draft blow against his skin. The man glanced at the corner of his eye to make sure Rachel was still turned around, but sensed the guilt from her.

"Yer' fine...ya' didn't know," Zack said, as he cleaned off the blood that clung to the sterile fabric.

Rachel heard the wrappings fall to the floor, then the damp cloth. It took him a couple of minutes to rewrap the missing bandages on his face, and feel comfortable again around his guest.

"Alright, yer' safe to turn around now."

The girl turned around, and saw Isaac had a much cleaner appearance, while the bloodied bandages laid there at his feet. Now that his wounds were tended to, she glanced by up to the man with worry in her eyes.

"What happened? This is the second time I've seen you act that way…"

Zack grumbled to himself, turning his gaze away. "...You wouldn't understand...so don't get yer' panties in a knot…"

Even though Zack was teaching her to look out for herself, as well as allowing the girl into his home, he still didn't show very much trust in her. This left the two in a moment of awkward silence.

"Hey...just how old are you?"

"Me?" Ray asks, "...I'm thirteen."

Isaac raised a brow, and thought about it - that was roughly the age he might've been when he escaped the Orphanage. If that was the case, the miserable life she's living now, then maybe the chances of her eventually snapping was getting closer by the day. Then again, she has yet to see the absolute worst in humanity, she was never set on fire, or intentionally starved...or perhaps...it has yet to happen to her.

"What about you? How old are you?"

This snapped Zack from his thoughts, and refocused his attention to the girl, "How old am I?...I don't even know what my fuckin' birthday is."

Zack was more of a stray than Gramps had described to Rachel.

"...Gramps says that I might be about 19 or 20, from how I sound now…" Zack murmured, then shook himself to his senses, "Why the fuck aren't ya' scared to be hanging around in a grown ass man's home? Ya' barely know me."

"I don't, but the old man made me feel welcome here," Rachel said.

She wasn't wrong, Gramps always tries to make every guest feel welcome.

"And besides…" she continues, "...I would like to get to know you a little more."

That caught Zack off guard for a moment, but he rolled his eyes in slight annoyance - such a weird, little girl. Speaking of the old man, Zack wants to check up on him, hopefully the ruckus from earlier didn't rile him awake. He gestured to the girl to wait there, as he stepped away to walk over to Gramps' room. He opened the door, and peeked his head in to check up on the elderly man. Gramps was still sound asleep, with no signs of wheezing as he breathed. This gave Zack a huge sense of relief, and stepped back out to let the old man continue sleeping. As stood in front of the door for a moment, and reflected on Rachel's words - she wants to get to know him a little more. He barely has much people get to know him, just Gramps, and probably the store owners who adjusted to Zack's presence.

Rachel was sitting on the couch again, having disposed of the dirty wrappings. The girl stayed there, keeping to herself until she heard Zack return to the living room.

"Hey...did ya' eat yet?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you eat yet?" Zack asks, "Since ya' snuck out of yer' place...and I have no fuckin' idea how long you're gonna stick around."

"To tell you the truth...I'm not so sure either, I just know going back home is going to be a terrible idea," Ray replied, "...but I am a little hungry."

"Alright...then sit here…" Zack replied, has he walked towards the kitchen.

Ray peeked to see him rummage for a small appliance - a hotplate. She raised a brow at why he needed to grab something like that, when he had a perfectly functioning gas stove right in front of him. Zack seemed content with it though, as he plugged it in and checked when it was heated up. He dug into the small fridge to pull out the basics for a breakfast meal - eggs, bacon, and some bread. She decided to help Zack out by grabbing the plates and utensils, and setting up the table.

The kitchen gradually filled up with the scent of cooking bacon, definitely making her own stomach start to grow from the pleasing scent. With the strips of meat done, Zack used the leftover grease to cook the eggs with, before tearing off a couple pieces of bread.

"Get yourself whatever to drink, got somethin' in the fridge…"

Rachel walked over to the fridge, and pulled out a carton of milk. She poured a small glass for herself, and for Zack as well. With the food done, Zack grabbed the plates and set the food on each one, then set them on the table. In the middle is where he kept the salt and pepper, and took to seasoning his food first, before pushing them over to Ray's side.

The man quickly shovelled the food into his mouth, while Rachel took her time to eat it, bite by bite.

"Thank you."

"Mh…"

He's never acted this hospitable around anyone else besides Gramps, even as he thinks about his time teaching her to fend for herself, he had given her his half of his lunch. This bothers him a little bit, not too badly, but it gives him a strange twinge he's never felt before. It took the old man a while for Zack to warm up to, but this girl has warmed up to him in a heartbeat - he can't wrap his head around this.

"Hey...you gonna stay the night here or what?"

Ray nibbled at the bread that was on her plate, then mulled over his question. She stayed quiet for a moment, she doesn't want to overstay her welcome, so she looked up at Zack with pleading eyes, "If it's okay with you...I think I would feel safer…"

Isaac raised a brow, then let out a slight grumble, "...Whatever...take the couch...I'll just sleep on the floor."

"Are you sure?"

"Ya' asked, right? Either ya' spend the night here or don't…" Zack quickly grunted. "Ain't the first time I had to sleep on the floor...n' besides...I gotta go pick up some shit tonight...so, I don't mind…"

Finished with his meal, he picked up his plate so he could wash it, and the appliance surface he cooked the food on. As soon as Rachel finished her food, she walked over to the kitchen to hand her plate over to the man. Before Ray backed away to give Zack some space, she felt a wet hand grasp her wrist.

"Hey...since yer' sleepin' here...make sure not to wake up Gramps," he instructed, "...but...if he wakes up on his own...can ya' let him know that he needs to drink more water?"

Rachel can see the expression of concern on his face, "You really care for the old man, don't you?"

That was an understatement, his lips tightened for a moment, then released her wrist.

"...He makes me feel less of a monster…" Zack quietly mutters.

His words surprised her, she's heard Gramps' side of his life with Zack, but now she knows of Zack's reason for being protective with the old man. Gramps meant alot to Zack, formed a sort of familial bond with him, to which the old man confirmed with Ray - all because Gramps was lonely for the longest time. If the old man was gone, then Zack would also become lonely.

Even lost...

* * *

"Here...tuck yer'self in...I'll be out for a bit…"

He tossed his blanket over to the girl, as well as a pillow to make herself comfortable on the couch. Rachel remembered the favor for Zack, and would hold onto it, while he was out. She fluffed the pillow, and wrapped her body up with the blanket. It was fairly old, but surprisingly warm.

Zack wandered out to the back of the house, where he kept his bat. He glanced at the blunt weapon, observing every dent and scratch on it - it was really looking worse for wear.

"Tch...looks like I gotta pick up another one…"

They were always cheap at thrift stores anyway, may as well give it one last go before pitching it. He stepped out into town, pulling the hood over his head, and gripping tightly onto the weapon. Zack did have some favorite spots to do his muggings, but he felt a small sense of curiosity filling him. With one of his spots, he had to pass by Rachel's place of residence, and he needed to figure out just how toxic her household was. He slinked into the shadows, as he approached the townhouses. Lights were out for all of the neighboring residences, while Rachel's were bright as fucking Christmas. The girl wasn't joking about her neighbors being repelled by her family. He could hear the two having a shouting session, like no one else on this earth existed.

"You're such a disgrace of a cop, a father, and a man!" a female voice shouted, "It's no wonder Rachel ran off. No one wants to be around a drunk piece of shit like you!"

"Shut your fucking mouth, woman, or I'll shut it for you!"

Zack sneered as he listened, aside from the screaming, he can hear items being tossed about, until he heard a loud thud, indicating that a physical altercation was about to take place. Ray wasn't kidding about her household, and she was right to make the decision not to return for the night - that girl was oddly perspective for her age, almost like himself. He grumbled a sound of dissatisfaction from that thought, he needs to engage in his usual outlet for violence. Isaac ventured towards the shadier side of town, knowing it was riddled with drunks and sleazy women. Drunken men were easy to take out with a bat, but women required a little more strategy - they were more vocal and sensitive to their surroundings. It did help him practice his stalking though.

Thwack! Thwack!

One by one, Zack smacked down random drunks that entered his hunting ground, as for the women, he took his time, staying silent, and walking in steps of their loud heels. Then, they too were brought to the ground. Each victim had their pockets and purses pilfered of their cash, as they laid there unconscious. He managed to acquire a good wad to take home, though, he felt that twinge to finish the job.

 _One more hit outta do it_ …

Isaac stood over another man, he wasn't sure if he was drunk or not, nor did he care. He held a bundle of cash that his victim was going to toss to some stripper. He gripped his bat tightly as he stared down at his victim.

 _No, maybe two...or three...I'm fiending to kill_ …

Slowly, Zack began to raise his hand up, readying his bat for another blow. His grip may be tight, but his hand shook, as if he was struggling to fight his darker desires.

 _I wanna kill..._

Just a few more blows, and this person will be dead. Zack's vision began to focus into a hazy tunnel vision. His weapon was right over his head, just seconds away from slamming back down on his victim's skull, but something flashed in his mind; memory began to replay a younger him, soaked in blood after butchering the proprietors of the Orphanage, until it suddenly cut to Rachel's concerned expression as she saw blood on his bandaged face. This made the man paused for a moment, halting him from the desire to beat this man into a pulp. If he came back home caked in blood, chances are Ray would be just as worried for his well being. Would she react the same way as Gramps did? Why does he even care about this? Or even about her?

He barely knows her…

Zack grumbled to himself, then stepped away from the unconscious man, "...Whatever...slashin' 'em up would be better than bashing them…"

It would be much more satisfying. So easy.

The man spent most of the night walking back home, he still felt like he had some energy to spare, but some sleep would help put his mind at ease. Zack picked his head up and saw the familiar shack in the distance, he then glanced at the warped bat in his hands, and flung it into the woods as hard as he could. He'll just visit the thrift shop for a new bat tomorrow. He approached the front porch of the house, but paused at opening the door. Zack peered into the window to see Rachel sleeping soundly on the couch, it made him decide rather quickly that he would choose to sleep outside instead - it wasn't cold, nor was it muggy...so the conditions were fine to sleep in.

Zack slid himself against the frame of the front door, shuffled to make himself a little more comfortable, then closed his eyes.

* * *

Gramps Slid himself out of bed, even though his eyesight showed only darkness, he knew that it was early morning. Today, he felt rather refreshed, compared to yesterday - still a bit stuffy, but in much better spirits. The old man quietly left his bedroom, and made his way into the living room. He may be feeling better, but he knew not to push himself today, so he'll make his usual strolls a short one. Gramps grabbed his old straw hat and coat, and headed towards the front door. However, he sensed a vibe that differed from Zack on the couch. The old man approached the old furniture, he's sensed this aura before - the young girl? Gramps had a surprised look on his face, realizing that Isaac allowed her to spend the night. Now that he thought about it, since the girl is sleeping in Zack's usual spot, where was the man at? He opened the front door to step outside, and picked up an aura immediately.

"Ah, there he is…" he thought aloud, with a proud chuckle. No matter how many years pass, he still pictures Zack as that small, lost boy he found sleeping in that car. Gramps shrugged off his coat, knelt down beside Zack, and draped it over his body. It was better than letting Zack get cold, whatever the reason was for him to snooze outside. Looks like Gramps will go out for a stroll another time.

The warmth of the morning sun began to rile Zack awake, he can feel the heat radiating in his clothes, and the glare of the natural light - it was difficult to continue sleeping now. He opened his mismatched eyes, and sensed something was wrapped on his body. He turned his attention down, and noticed the familiar old coat that belonged to Gramps. He quickly sprang up to his feet, then rushed inside the house to check up on the old man's health. He can smell the scent of food cooking, and noticed the old man cooking breakfast, while he nonchalantly whistled a tune. Zack also turned his attention to the couch, and noticed the blanket was neatly folded and set aside.

"...Where'd the brat go?"

"Rachel? She helped set up the table, then went home about an hour ago," Gramps answered. "I asked if she would like to stay for some breakfast, but she said she really needed to get back home."

Isaac grumbled at the thought, given the loud ruckus he encountered at the girl's home - pretty sure her parents would be none to pleased to see her again, after her little disappearing act. Plus, the girl was pretty damn quiet leaving the residence, he was normally aware of his surroundings, but she didn't make a sound loud enough to wake him. He scratched the back of his head, a little impressed by her stealth, but that wasn't his biggest concern right now. Zack walked up to Gramps, observing his behavior, and listening closely for any signs of wheezing.

"Are ya' doing alright? Feeling any better?"

A soft smile appeared on Gramps' face, showing he was well, "I'm doing quite fine, thank you, Zack."

Thank God for that…

* * *

It's been a few days now, both Zack and Gramps have gotten another visit from Rachel. Isaac wasn't too concerned - why should he even care? The old man, on the other hand, appeared pretty worried.

"It's been a while since your friend came over...I hope she's doing okay…"

"She ain't my friend, Gramps," Zack replied.

Then a soft chuckle escaped the old man's lips, "If that was the case, Zack...then why did you allow her to sleep over?"

That shut Zack up for a moment, Gramps knew his behaviors all too well - if he really didn't give a complete damn about the girl, then Zack would've kicked her out in a heartbeat. He couldn't like to the old man - he hates liars, instead, he lowered himself with a huff.

"...I let her hang out, cuz yer' fine with havin' her around…"

That wasn't just it, and Gramps knew better. Isaac was the same way around him when they first met, withdrawn and distrusting, until he gradually warmed up to him. This girl would be no different, and having her sleep over for the night was a sign enough that Zack was becoming more acquainted to her.

"If you say so…" the old man said, followed with another soft chuckle.

* * *

Another day passed, and Isaac was roaming the streets to gather more funds to live on. He had a new bat in hand, with only a few fresh scuffs on the metal. Everything seemed to go on as normal, strike down a few drunks - maybe a hooker or two, then swipe their cash. He knew to take only the cash, after observing people trying to sell off stolen goods, and getting caught afterwards when said items were recognized. Besides, he really couldn't give a shit for material things, cash was quicker.

He roamed the alley, keeping his weapon gripped tightly in hand, he wanted to do one more round, before turning in for the night, but something made him jolt from surprise. A loud and pained cry echoed through the alley - there was no question that those sounds were not human.

Zack paused in his steps for a moment, he could ignore it, and go about his business, but instincts screamed at him to find the source of that sound. With his weapon clutched to his chest, he ran towards the direction of the yelp, and prepared for what the hell he was getting himself in to. Another sound filled the area, this time, Zack was able to pinpoint both the location and the possibility of what it could be - it was obvious that the sound was an animal in extreme distress. Soon, the alleys grew quiet, and a strong, warm scent of iron was filling the man's nostrils. It was an all too familiar scent, drifting his memories back to that Orphanage. There was a dead silence, and Zack could pick up the figure of a person, hunched over in an alcove, while blood pooled all around them. Something was in their arms, as he approached, he noticed the leg of an animal; possibly a small canine, twitching violently, as if the last bits of life spasmed in its joints. One of the other hands appeared preoccupied with something else, Zack spotted a bloodied hand holding a needle and thread, as it pierced this creature repeatedly.

Isaac just stood there in shock, it wasn't just the gruesome sight itself, but because the figure in front of him, was Ray.

"There, there…" she cooed, "I will make you my perfect little puppy…"

She snapped, she finally fucking _snapped_.

"What in the fuck…" Zack growls.

This startles her, he watched the girl's figure jolt for a moment, before turning around to see at who was behind her. Then he can see it, that familiar savage gleam in her eyes that he once had when he slaughtered the proprietors so many years ago. She bore the look of a killer. Rachel appeared scared for a moment, then recognized Zack on the dot. She appeared unnaturally cheerful, something that was riling up Zack's senses, but kept him restrained from the blood splattered on her face.

That sadistically cheery expression, while caked in blood, it was causing those flashbacks to flood his mind again. He grit his teeth and shook it off.

"...What the fuck happened here, Ray?"

She stood up, keeping the creature in her arms as it had fallen limp. She was absolutely soaked in blood, and the creature in her hands was indeed a puppy - malnourished, butchered, and now sewn up in the stomach and mouth regions. The innards were probably spilled somewhere in the little alcove she was huddled in. Such a sigh was nothing new to Zack, but seeing her appear so carefree about it made his stomach churn in disgust. She seemed awfully proud with what stayed in her arms, and was eager to display it to the man.

"I-Isn't it cute? I found him all alone a couple days ago…" Ray said in a gleeful, but crazed tone, "...there was something wrong with it, though...but I fixed it! See? They're my perfect little puppy now!"

Zack did not share her enthusiasm.

"What's wrong? Don't you like them?"

"No," Zack said in a sharp, blunt tone. "They're fuckin' _dead_."

Her expression distorted into shock, almost offended by Zack's words, she held the mutilated animal close to her body, as if she was trying to shelter the remnants of the creature from him.

"Dead? How could you say such a thing?" Ray whined, "I just made them better!"

She held the twisted and bloody creature back up again, almost shoving it in Zack's face to prove him wrong, to show that this was her perfect little puppy. The man leaned back to get the corpse out of his face, and roughly smacked the mangled body out from her hands. Ray froze, startled from Zack's actions, then heard the puppy topple to the ground with a gross splat.

"Open yer' fucking eyes!" Zack shouted, flattening his hand, and thwacked her on the head to force her to return to her senses.

It was a painful blow, but it made the girl pause for a second, as the killer glare was leaving her already hollow eyes. Ray stood there for a brief moment, then glanced up at Zack, appearing disoriented with where she was or what she was even doing. Then she could sense a mixture of warmth, and a draft. She focused her attention downward, and glanced at her body, she was completely coated in fresh blood, and right at her feet, was the little puppy's corpse. Isaac watched as the girl's face changed again, showing a face of disgust and despair, while her body shook uncontrollably. Ray felt a scream build within her lungs, but she lacked the will to let her anguish out. Instead, her arms huddled against her torso, and her legs lost strength to hold herself up. She knelt there, in front of the patched up carcass, with tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"What have I done?" she mutters in a quivering tone, "...I...I never meant for this to happen…"

Zack just stood there and watched, he knows what she could be going through - though his own experience with it was different compared to hers. Still, he knows that she is not alone in this kind of situation. Zack knelt down, and grabbed the tattered up by the scruff of the neck.

"You can tell me what happened later...come with me," he says. "I'll help ya' bury it…"

Rachel picked her head back up to the man, confused by his action, but noticed a slight gaze of sympathy towards her.

"...If ya' really feel bad about what ya' did...then this can be the kindest thing you can do for it...now let's get going."

* * *

Rachel's expression remained sunken and lost during the entire walk to Zack's house. She committed a horrible act, her body shows proof of this, and Isaac got to witness it. Everything started off so innocently, didn't it? Now that her memories are returning from her grief-stricken haze, perhaps it was not.

As Zack approached the house, he tossed his bat aside, then grasped the shovel that was often propped at the side of the house. Rachel glanced at the blunt weapon he had tossed aside, she's seen him swing it furiously out back, but since she was found in an alley, there was no question that Zack must've been using it for different purposes. The man gestured for her to snap out of her trance, and follow him into the woods. Like with Gramps, an appropriate spot needed to be picked - it was Rachel's decision to make.

"Go on n' pick a good spot...give 'em the dignity of a final resting place, y'know?"

He really wasn't one with words, but Ray seemed to get the gist of it, she quietly nodded, and lead the way through the woods. Even though Zack had good intentions, to her, it still felt like some sort of Walk of Shame. Eventually, she came across an opening, and noticed there was a mound right in front of her. Zack knows this spot all too well, as he can see the stone that was used as a makeshift tombstone.

He set the shovel down, and glanced to the girl, "Is this the place?"

Ray jolted, snapping out of her thoughts again, then turned to the man, "Something else is buried here…"

"Don't mean there isn't enough room…" Zack replied, "besides...I think the cat would be fine sharing this spot."

It's such a soft and sappy thing to say, something Zack isn't accustomed to, but if it will make this girl feel a little at ease, then he may as well let the words slip. Sensing the tension leave Ray, he took it as a form of consent, and set the puppy down to start digging the animal's grave. Just like with the cat, as soon as the shovel dug into the earth, he wasn't feeling that sense of disgust, or being used like some sort of disposal - he chose to do this as a way to help the girl out, and lessen the bitter feelings she had, due to the actions she had done.

"If it'll make ya' feel any better...this place has some flowers growing...help yer'self to them to pretty up the grave...or somethin'..."

She did just that, staying quiet, as she knelt down and picked a bundle of wildflowers that grew in the clearing. Zack had finished digging the grave, he held the old tool at his side, while he freed a hand, and set the expired puppy inside the cold earth. He picked up the sound of sniffling, and turned around to see Rachel was choking back tears. She sniffled and hiccuped to stifle her sorrowed cries, as she approached the small grave, and placed the flowers on the corpse.

"I'm sorry...I'm so… _so_ sorry…" she whimpered, "I never meant for this to happen…"

Isaac stood there, grasping the tool to prop himself, as he leaned on it, and used his hands to rest his chin, "Ray...spill it, what happened?"

Rachel waited until she was capable of forming words properly, and wiped the excess tears from her eyes, "...I've been looking out for myself...like you showed me. It did help for a while, and I stayed out of my father's way, or avoided him outright. I even learned a couple of tricks to hide or sneak away…"

"M'kay...and?"

"My father got really drunk, and was in a very bad mood...nothing was safe," Ray continued, "him and my mother got into another fight...and from the sounds of it, things escalated badly. I wouldn't doubt if a few teeth had gotten knocked out…"

"What's it got to do with you? They drag you into that shit again? What about this pup?"

"I found the puppy just before my dad came home drunk. I began to sneak table scraps to it after dinner, and I wanted to take it home...but, if I snuck it in, my parents would be furious...so I tried to be civil and ask them," Ray said. "I thought that if I introduced the puppy, maybe it would help calm things down at home."

Isaac listened quietly, and listened to the strain in her voice, as she recounted everything.

"The day I tried to ask them, was when my father showed up drunk. None of them would care to listen, they just screamed and fought with one another," Rachel continued, "when it sounded a little calm, that's when I attempted to ask them."

As soon as Rachel wiped off some of the blood off her cheek, Zack could see a bruising mark on her skin. It was no brainer that the girl was smacked about like some kind of punching bag if she dared to speak up about anything. He quietly wanted to confirm what he's seeing by brushing a lock of her golden hair from her face for a better look at her bruise. Ray kept her eyes away from him in shame, knowing that Zack had gotten the gist of one of the events.

"So, ya' took it out on the pup?"

Rachel bit at her quivering bottom lip, "...I don't even know, to tell you the truth...I was in a haze after all of that."

' _So that's how it is…_ '

' _I want to kill…_ '

Zack knows this haze so well.

"I thought I could just check up on the puppy, make sure it was okay, but...it bit me…" Ray said, feeling some tears trickle down her cheek, "...everything went dark after that."

The man walked up to Ray, and grasped her by the hand to check if the bite was deep, but he didn't see any punctures in her skin - it was a pup after all, and they must've not had a very powerful bite, especially in its emaciated state. It was clear with all of the blood, and her sewing the poor creature up, she finally snapped, and she took out her madness on the puppy.

Just one kill won't be enough...it's never enough...she won't be able to stop...and Zack himself is grasping onto his own sanity by a thread…

"Ray...if they actually did give a damn to listen to ya'...do you really think that things would change with a mutt around?"

That question struck her pretty hard, with a sullen expression, she shook her head - there really was no hope.

"No...you're right...what was I thinking…?"

Zack quietly sighed as he walked up to the girl and brought a hand up to gently pat her head, "Eh...yer' heart was in the right place…"

He grasped the shovel, and pushed the mound of dirt over the corpse of the puppy. There weren't much stones to use as a tombstone, so Zack decided to snap an old branch and stake it in place for a marker. Now the little graveyard wasn't so lonely anymore.

Zack focused his attention back to Ray and tapped at her shoulder, "C'mon...let's get ya' cleaned up…"

Rachel stood up to her feet, and silently followed the man to his house. He chucked the shovel aside, and reached for an old hose that hung on a rusted nail to keep it neat and organized. Then, he grasped the calcium-encrusted valve to get water flowing, and checked the water pressure to make sure it was pouring correctly.

"Alright, spread yer' arms out."

Ray watched the clear water rush out of the hose, as Zack kept a thumb close to increase the pressure if he needed it. She obeyed, and spread her arms open to give Zack plenty of space to hose her down. He pressed his thumb at the tip of the hose, and allowed the water to spray the blood off the girl's body and clothes. Ray flinched from how cold the water was, but it was better than stinking of death. She can feel the bulk of the filth leave her skin, but she knows that it had soaked into her very soul - no bath or shower will ever clean this cruel deed off her.

Isaac continued hosing her off, until he could no longer see her drenched in blood. He decided that this was good enough, and turned the spigot to shut off the water. He can hear her shivering, but he wasn't going to leave her like that.

"Get yourself to the bathroom, n' hang up yer' clothes there. I'll get ya' somethin' to wear."

Rachel kicked off her shoes, and set them beside the front door, while Zack guided her to where the bathroom was, and was even considerate enough to close the door behind her as she slipped out of her wet clothes and dried herself off with a towel. Above the tub, she can see a clothes line, hung up on fairly new wall hooks. She opened a window to allow fresh air in to aid in drying her clothes, while stringing them up on the tough line. Zack was digging around the house, through the years, he couldn't bring himself to throw out every bit of clothing he had either stolen or bought. Like with food, clothing was precious to him, and now it was a good convenience to spare some to the girl. He pulled out a large shirt, and a pair of shorts. The man approached the bathroom door, and quietly knocked to get her attention. He heard the creak of the door opening, leaving only a crack for her to peek out.

"Here, put these on…"

The girl's hollow eyes glanced at the clothing, and she reached out to grasp them, before closing the door behind herself. It took only a couple of minutes for her to slip on the clothing, it was bigger and much more loose fitting to her own clothes, but they were comfortable - not to mention, dry. Rachel left the bathroom, and shuffled over to the couch. She sat there, still appearing to be in a daze, as Zack observed her behavior. He approached the young girl, and sat himself down on the couch to make his presence known to her.

"So...is this the first time you killed something?"

Rachel stayed quiet, nibbling on her bottom lip, as she nodded in reply.

Unlike Zack, he can see the remorse on the girl's face, where as he was filled with glee. Yet, this girl always had that stoic and doll-like expression, was her expression truthful, or was there more than meets the eye?

"...How does it make you feel?"

That question caught her off guard, it making her anxious, almost to the point of feeling queasy, but she did realize something, the more she thought about it.

"Uncomfortable, like I know what I did was absolutely terrible...but at the same time…" she paused. "...I felt something I really shouldn't have...it was like a sense of satisfaction...I really wanted that puppy to be perfect, and in that haze...they appeared to be that way…"

The satisfaction after a kill, hearing the complete dead silence, and watching a body become motionless. That's exactly what Zack experienced for himself, but his motive differed - it was freedom...and purpose.

He snapped out of his thoughts as he heard the girl start to whimper, "I'm crazy...that's what I am…"

The man quietly sighed, then brought a hand up to gently ruffle her golden locks. Her teary blue eyes glanced at Zack, confused but enthralled to him giving her such comforting touches, instead of the beatings she always received.

"Yer' not crazy, ya' just reached a breaking point...everyone gets 'em."

She will kill again, once it just never enough, especially with her parents tossing her around like that. He doesn't know what to do, he's not exactly the charismatic type, but all he could do is try to make her feel a little less like shit. Ray's lip quivered, she wiped at the corners of her eyes, and wrapped her arms around the man's side. Isaac jumped within his skin, as he glanced at the girl leaning against him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he snaps sharply, keeping his volume down.

"Please let me stay like this…" she pleads shakily, "I need the comfort…"

Zack sat there, almost frozen, this was a first for him, and he has no idea what to do with this girl. He's never really received this kind of comfort when he felt worthless, alone, and even _insane_.

Until he met Gramps…

A memory flashed within his mind, coming back into the old man's home after committing another murder, and doused in fresh blood. Gramps gave no reaction like he hoped, and simply wrapped his coat around his body in a caring manner. He never saw a vicious killer in Zack, and continued to treat him like the lost child he was. He made him feel at home.

His eyes softened, as he gazed at the girl. She needed some sort of comfort, a way to make her feel at home, just as Gramps did to him. As the girl latched tightly against his side, shaking from the fear of what is and what will be, Zack coiled an arm around her shoulder to keep her close by. Her shuddering calmed down a little, as she felt his hand pat at her back with gentle thuds. His expression was a little awkward, perhaps shy, but also soft. If Gramps saw past Zack's killer tendencies, and saw him as the lost boy he was, then to him, Rachel was a lost girl, who was frightened of her own capabilities. She was a kindred spirit, perhaps this is what Gramps really saw in her.

"...There, there…"

* * *

Isaac didn't sleep a wink that night, it wouldn't be the first time, but he felt like it was completely necessary. The girl had eventually nodded off in the late hours, still clutched against the man's side. His hand rested on the girl's shoulder as she slept her fears away. She appears so vulnerable and helpless, the more Isaac stares at her, the more he feels that familiar chill within his body. There was no drive to kill, rather, he senses a different instinct when it comes to her - almost similar to what he feels towards Gramps.

He still thinks about what happened last night, the strong scent of blood, seeing the girl absolutely soaked in blood, and with a crazed glee upon her face. It's the same, it's the exact same face Zack made as he butchered the sadistic couple in the Orphanage. Now she's got a taste for blood, he knows for damn sure it will happen again, and she may not have the strength to fight it back like he's struggled to for years. Would a chance at normalcy really be for naught? He doesn't want to think it, such thoughts makes his head pound. Life has been pleasant for once - normal...he feels normal during it all.

Yet, he still desires to kill…

Just a little longer, for Gramps. For this second chance given to him. He needs to stay strong. The man hummed a quiet and pained groan, as his head throbbed again. This episode is faint, but still hurts to fight back.

Isaac freezes, and snaps out of his dark thoughts as he hears the squeak of a door and turned to see the old man leave his bedroom. He appears weak again, Zack can tell by the way he walks, and it filled him with worry.

"Gramps?"

"Oh, good morning, Zack. You're up early," he replied, keeping his gentle tone.

Within seconds, Gramps halts his steps, clutching his chest, and let out those harsh coughs again. Zack quickly hops off the couch and rushed to the old man's side. The sudden jostling caused Ray to fall on the cushions, and riled her awake. She quickly picked herself up, and tried to figure out where where was and what was going on. She can hear coughs, and frantic footsteps thudding on the wooden floor, and turned her attention to where the source of the noise was. Zack was at the old man's side, with a look of concern on his face, as Gramps continued his harsh coughs. It's much worse than before.

"Gramps…"

"I-I'm alright...I just got something in my thro-" another hard cough interrupted the man's words, and rendered him to bend a knees to prevent collapse.

Isaac placed his hand on the old man's back to try and quell his coughs, Gramps try his best to stifle it as well, by covering his mouth when it got worse. He felt something though, it wasn't a normal mixture of phlegm and saliva. Instinct ignored his disability for a moment, causing Gramps to pull his hand back to investigate. What Zack saw made his heart sink to his stomach - blood.

"Ray! Get over here!" Zack shouts.

The girl hurried to the young man's side, and watched him wrap one of Gramps' arms around his shoulder.

"Get the other one."

Ray motioned herself to the old man, and carefully picked up the other arm to prop it over her shoulder. The two held him up onto his feet, but the harsh coughs continued. Ray can sense the panic in Zack, as well as a feeling of confusion. Trying her best to keep a level head, she had the only best solution to help Gramps.

"We need to take him to the nearest doctor, immediately."

"O-Okay…"

Keeping Gramps secure, the two carefully walked him out of the door, and out of the house.

* * *

This was pure torture, both Zack and Ray waited for hours in the sterile white waiting room, as Gramps was being assessed by hospital staff. His condition was far too severe for the nearest doctor to handle, which prompted them to call an ambulance. Anxiety was brewing within the young man, hoping that this was just another illness that Gramps would get over, like he's done before. He couldn't stop pacing around the room, as Ray sat in a chair with concern.

"Why is this taking for-fucking-ever?" he groaned.

"It takes a while for doctors to diagnose what's wrong with him, give them some time, Zack."

"I need to know now!"

The two heard the jostling of a doorknob, causing Zack to freeze in his steps, and turn to the direction. A woman in a white coat stood in the doorway, keeping a clipboard in hand, with a somber expression on her face.

"Isaac, right?'

"...Yeah?"

"I need to speak with you, concerning your grandfather."

They don't know, but Gramps was family to Zack. He swallowed hard, as he walked over to the woman, and followed her into the ER. It took about half an hour to pass, until the door opened yet again, the woman from before held the door open, as Zack came back out, with Gramps in tow. The hospital was kind enough to give him a seated rollator, giving Gramps something to rest on, while Isaac carefully pushed him into the waiting room.

"We've already taken care of the discharge paperwork, you are free to return home, but don't hesitate to bring him back, should his condition worsen."

"Alright…" he mutters, then gently nudges Gramps, "C'mon...let's head home…"

"I'm awfully sorry to have you haul me around," the old man apologized, then focused his direction towards the girl approaching him, "I'm sorry for you too. I must've caused quite a commotion…"

"It's alright...I won't hesitate to help you out…" Ray said with a gentle smile.

Gramps let out a tired chuckle, "I see that Zack really has made a good friend…"

Isaac stayed quiet during the entire walk back to the house, while Gramps nodded off in his chair. He was clearly exhausted, especially after having to cough so hard, causing much pain in his chest, along with the possible tests he had to take to get his diagnosis from the doctors - not to mention, the stress that stacked from having to be hauled from one place to another. Zack made sure not to rile the old man awake, as he opened the door to their home, and helped him onto the bed. The old man slept soundly, while Zack kept a stressed expression on his face. He was relieved to have him back home, but there was something that was bothering him, something he doesn't quite understand. He set the rollator at the foot of the bed, and left the old man's room. He needs all the rest he can get.

Rachel watched Zack close the door behind himself, then lean against it with a perturbed expression.

"What's wrong?" she asks, "is Gramps going to be okay?"

"I dunno, th' doc says that he's sick…" Zack replies, but something about his illness bothered him. It was something he's never heard of before.

"Ray...what's cancer?"


	4. Act 1: Chapter 4

"Ray…"

Complete dead silence filled the room, as the following question left his lips.

"What's cancer?"

* * *

It was a simple question, but one that held a great weight to it. Her heart sank, realizing the grave reality to the kind old man's health, and having to think of the words to relay it to Isaac only added to the emotional burden. She's hesitant to respond, but she can see the inquisitive expression on Zack's face - it was an innocent one to add. He doesn't know, and she knows that he will not like the answer.

"I-It's a disease…" Ray says. "It's not contagious like normal illnesses…"

"He's just sick then...he'll get better...right?"

Ray's lips tightened, while she shied her blue-eyed gaze away. The tense silence was almost torture between the both of them.

"...It's...it's complicated to say," Rachel replied. "Overcoming the disease can be difficult...even with medical intervention. Cancer...can be fatal…"

Isaac felt his blood run cold, as his face showed an expression of his whole world crashing down. A grim reality came to Zack's mind, he now figured out exactly why Gramps wanted to go back home, especially after such a diagnosis like that. Like with the cat, the old man knew he was going to die, and simply wanted to have a peaceful place to die in. Slowly, Isaac's face appeared to show anguish, but began to shift into anger.

" _Fuuuuck!_ " he screams, before reeling a foot back to kick a box of kindling in a fit of rage. The container shattered fairly easily under his boot, scattering the firewood all over the floor.

It's not fair, it's not fucking fair for the old man to die like this. It's not fair for Zack to be left all alone again. Why does life keep throwing the rug under him like this? He growled under his breath, ready to destroy the next thing within his sights, until he felt a strong tug at his hoodie. He quickly turned his gaze to see Rachel gripping onto him tightly, with a strong expression of fear in her eyes. She's terrified of outbursts - it's ingrained in her mind, but that inkling of sympathy is what drove some courage to calm the man. Zack paused for just a short second, which gave Rachel plenty of time to grasp him by the face, and bring him close to her.

She looked at him square in the eyes, almost peering into his very soul to get through to him, "Zack...please...I understand that you're hurt, but getting angry and screaming about it won't change a thing."

"What the fuck am I supposed to do then? Just watch Gramps die in front of me?"

Ray can feel her eyes sting, there was also a lump in her throat, as the words grew more difficult to form in her mouth, "Stay with him, Zack. However long Gramps has left to live, please make every single day worthwhile to him, he deserves that. Let him cherish it."

Isaac grit his teeth, as his eyes narrowed. He feels so helpless right now, there really was nothing he could do, nothing at all, but to accept the inevitable. His legs began to give way underneath him, and rendered him onto his knees. Gramps is going to die, and all he could do is simply make it less painful. The thought alone was overwhelming, Zack's emotions didn't know any other way to convey this, so he buried his face in his hands to hide himself from reality.

"All alone…" he mutters in a quiet tone.

"You're not going to be alone, Zack…" Ray replies, before kneeling down to his level. She was a little hesitant at first, but she knew deep down that the man needed comfort. The girl raised her arms to gently coil them around his head in an attempt to cradle him. It's something Rachel has never done before, but somehow, she feels this was the right action to take. "You're not going to be alone. We haven't gotten to know each other very much, but I'd still like for you to consider me an ally of sorts...maybe, perhaps...a friend."

Zack's off-colored eyes focused on the girl in front of him - a friend? Gramps did tease him about a possible friendship with the girl, but it seemed there was some seriousness to his wishes of a possible companionship when he was gone. If Rachel didn't shyly appear in their lives, then perhaps Zack really would be lost, confused, and alone in the world when Gramps passes.

"I'll be here, and I'll help make his final days just as pleasant...okay?"

Isaac had no other choice, this is exactly like with the cat - only, Gramps wasn't going to sneak off to a place to hide and die. He's become very feeble, and needed his help getting around at times, though he rarely expressed it; Zack was just good at reading the old man's body language. Easing his suffering was the best option to take.

"O-Okay…" he mutters. "...okay…"

Ray knows he feels defeated, but deep down, she would do anything to try and comfort the man, even Gramps.

* * *

Night fell, Rachel had made a simple meal for both Zack and Gramps, before she had to depart, and avoid suspicion from her parents. However, she made sure to promise a return.

The man just sat there on the couch, he kept a blank expression the entire time, but on the inside, he was struggling against a strong urge. His fingers dug into his air, almost pulling at it, as memories flashed in his head nonstop. Fires, death, starvation, and finally...blood. So much blood hazed his memories, until all he could see was red. His body was shaking, _craving_ for that satisfying sensation he got from snuffing out a life. Zack growled, as he smacked himself hard to try and shake the thoughts from his head. His eyes focused on the mess he made from his outburst, something about the scattered firewood caught his attention. Within the piles of chopped lumber, he noticed a glint, a very familiar one. The man got up, and walked over to the scattered firewood. He brushed aside one of the logs, and saw a knife had been hiding amongst it.

It wasn't like the kitchen knife he once wielded as a child, this was made to kill. It was a vintage bowie knife, there were some signs of wear and rust, but it appeared to be in great condition.

 _'I wanna kill…'_

What a great weapon it would make right now…

 _'I wanna kill…'_

How easy it would be to kill someone compared to that shitty kitchen knife.

 _'I wanna kill…'_

He could just go and go again, without it contorting after a few murders.

Slowly, Isaac raised a hand up, and began to reach for the old knife, and nearly brushed the leather hilt with his calloused fingers. He can feel a crazed grin creeping on his face, stretching from ear to ear.

"Zack?"

The man froze, hearing a familiar voice that snapped him out of his bloodlust cravings. He quickly whirled around to see Gramps shuffling into the living room, his cane tapping on the floor here and there.

"Zack, what are you doing up this late?"

"I-I should ask you the same...didn't the docs say you needed to rest?" Zack stuttered, with cold sweat soaking into his bandages.

"Bah...just because I have cancer doesn't mean I should be bedridden my entire life," Gramps said with a stubborn wave of the hand. "Life is meant for living."

Despite Gramps' attempt to stay positive, Isaac's anxiety had spiked, and the old man could sense it. The elderly man let out a faint sigh, and backed himself onto the couch, "Come here, Zack. Sit, join me. I'd like to have a talk."

The young man swallowed hard, before reluctantly walking up to the couch, and sitting himself beside Gramps. Despite the heavy air of tension weighing on them, he can still sense a positive vibe coming from the elderly man.

"I know it hurts, Zack. Parting ways is painful for everyone, but that's one of the obstacles of life…" Gramps said. "I'm old, frail, and blind...I probably wouldn't have lived as long as I did, if I hadn't have met you. A life of poverty isn't a prosperous one."

Isaac was to thank for that, but it was Gramps who took him in to begin with. He was just another mouth to feed, a burden, like how the couple in the Orphanage treated him as, but Gramps never saw him that way.

"Hey...what was the real reason ya' chose to keep me around? Being lonely can't be the only one...is it?"

Gramps was quiet, and he had an expression on his face that Zack had never witnessed before. It was a somber expression, instead of the usual caring, concerned, and cheerful one he had known through the years of living with him. The elderly man raised a hand, and proceeded to run his fingers against his own cheek. There had always been a faint scar there, it was small, but pretty deep to leave a permanent mark like that.

"Not once have I ever been able to see what you look like with my own eyes, but in some way, I've been able to see you in a different kind of perspective. Consider it like an aura, or perhaps your very own spirit, in that way...my blinded eyes are able to see you," Gramps said. "The day I met you...I saw a familiarity of sorts. You were a troubled and broken child…"

He rested his hands at his lap, then opened his wrinkled, calloused hands, "Zack...do you remember the night you came back home, stained with blood?"

Isaac felt a cold sweat, then mumbled lightly, "Y-Yeah…"

"You remember that I wasn't afraid of you, even after you admitted your murder, right?

The young man still holds that memory in his mind, like it was yesterday, it really was the shifting point in his life. Gramps gave no reaction, except to give him the coat he worse for Zack to stay warm as he slept. He draped it over his body with a caring tenderness, something he's never experienced before in his early youth. This was strange though, the woman who drove that car he slept in was terrified of him, the very moment she saw the crimson splattered all over his clothes, but Gramps just accepted it.

"Y-Yeah...why is that? Figured a normal person would get scared shitless."

A silent sigh escapes the old man, as his expression shows something like regret, "...It's because I know what it's like to kill someone."

Zack's eyes widened a little, stunned to hear something like this from this kind and frail old man.

"Yer' shittin' me."

"No, it's true...I've had my share of suffering when I was young," Gramps replied. "Times were... _difficult_...to put it lightly. You see, when I was the age you are now...I was drafted into a war."

"War?"

"Yes, I was young, had been dropped in some jungle on the other side of the world - and from there, is where men no longer became human," Gramps continued. "There was so much death and destruction; no one cared if someone was an innocent bystander, an ally, or an enemy...and I am ashamed to say that I also partook in it. The more you kill, the more numb you become to it all, and forget what it means to be a person."

 _'I'm a monster…'_

Isaac paused in his thoughts, that was something he always called himself - not just for his appearance, but his actions. That thought solidified when he butchered that couple in the Orphanage. He felt _nothing_ when he did it. Perhaps the only thing he could feel after leaving the Orphanage was a sense of being lost; he no longer had a home, and he was alone...so he lacked purpose...he just existed, with death fresh in his mind.

 _'What will you do now?'_

Gramps understood the entire time, yet Zack never completely knew about the old man himself.

"There's an area that no man should cross, when it came to taking a life - it's a point of no return. That is when people really become monsters," the old man said. "I never saw that with you. I saw there was still humanity in you, the day I took you in. You were a boy that needed help in finding the right path."

"...How do you know when you reach that point?"

"You don't feel disgusted with yourself, the more gruesome you kill another person...instead, you start to enjoy it. That's what I saw with my fellow squad mates, even my superiors. Unlike them, I stopped and looked around myself, realized what I was doing…" Gramps said. "Others took different approaches when they got close to that boundary. Those men who opened their eyes couldn't live with the crimes they committed, and ended it all."

He can still remember the day, surrounded by a sea of trees, while everyone else shot aimlessly, or stabbed others with their bayonets. Then, there was fire, the sounds or bombs and gunfire filling the air. Followed with the scent of blood and corpses. Chaos. Complete chaos.

Isaac, on the other hand, reflected on his murders, the first time acting on it - he felt rage. As the bodies stewed in blood, and from then on, he felt nothing. Not even enjoyment...at least, that's what he thought.

 _'Hyahahaha!'_

No...he _did_ like it. As he remembers the wide smile that creeped up on his face. Zack felt his blood run cold for a moment, perhaps he had crossed that line, or in the very least, is dangerously close on that border. That's why he's fighting so damn hard to fight his cravings to kill again, every passing year. Even now, he gazed at the bowie knife with the intent of putting it to use.

"...How did you get out of that hellhole?" Zack asked, as his hands began to shake.

"It's complicated to say, really…" Gramps said. "One day, less units came in for reinforcement, and more planes flew over the jungles...then came the rains. You expect rain to cause plant life to thrive, but these only killed them. After the barrage of rain, was then we were ordered to go back home. It was so sudden, but we were shipped without question."

Then a bitter chuckle escaped, "Coming back home always appeared so glorified in television and movies...but that wasn't the case when I came home. There were no parades, fanfare, or people happy to see us home. There was nothing to welcome us home. I had no family or friends, I just felt like I was dropped off - Thanks for fighting, now get. We're done with you."

A faint growl rumbled from Zack, he knows that feeling - being used.

"...Like a tool, huh?"

"Yeah...you can say that," Gramps replied. "Everyone who fought in that war didn't fare any better either. So many came suffering in some way, most of it was mental suffering. Many men became so bitter and paranoid. Living a normal life was a war in itself. Some turned to a life of crime, and others - like myself, wound up living on the streets. During my time in that jungle, I didn't feel any other sense of purpose, and because of that, I just couldn't function into normal society. Soon, I ended up here...in some old shack, and turning to drink for a long while."

That explains all the trash and bottles that littered the home on Day One.

"Eventually, my health began to deteriorate...I just figured it was because of living my life as a bum," the old man continued. "Poor lifestyle, and lack of proper healthcare...but...after that diagnosis, I finally figured out why."

Isaac raised a brow.

"As you were waiting Zack...I learned about what that rain really was...it's the reason for my blindness...and my cancer…" Gramps said, then lightly shook his head. "Despite all that...I decided to not live a bitter life, like everyone else. I stopped drinking, and chose my purpose in life was to live it every single day. That was enough to make me happy, even as the world grew darker, and my hair turned gray. That is, until I found you, Zack."

Words left the young man.

"You can become something you're not...or you can let your bitterness go, and become something far beyond your own potential," Gramps said. "Zack...I want to let you know that I'm glad I found you that day. All these years that have passed, you've been like a son to me."

"...A son?"

Gramps nodded with his usual warm grin, "You and I may not be related by blood but you have been family to me."

Zack felt a painful lump in his throat, as well as a new feeling inside of him. It was similar to that odd chill, except...it was warm, very warm. He didn't know what this was, but somehow it felt...good. As saddening as this situation was, just hearing those words coming from Gramps made him feel good inside.

"My chapter in your life is almost up, and from here on, Zack...it is up to you to decide where you'd like your future to lie."

"I...I dunno what to do…"

"There is no rush, Zack...it'll come to you," Gramps said, as he stood up, and gently ruffled his hair. "If you wish to keep living your life as you have been every day, that's fine - but, if a new passion comes your way, that's fine too. Those choices are yours to make, you are only human, after all."

He stopped for a brief moment, then brought his hand to pat Zack on the shoulder, "I'm proud of you, Zack...remember that…"

It was getting late, and Gramps decided to retire for the remaining hours of the night. His words never left Zack, that warm, but sinking feeling he feels in his chest, made his lips quiver a little. He can't understand this feeling - it's sweet, but it hurts too much. He should be used to death, but this one, is too painful for him to bear.

* * *

 _Knock! Knock! Knock!_

The old, rickety door opened, and the old man peeked his head out, as if sensing who was on the other side.

"Hello, Sir."

"Ah, Rachel...I'm glad to see you again," Gramps said in a cheerful tone. "Zack is still asleep, he's had a rough night."

' _I can imagine…_ ' Ray silently thought. The news was still a tough pill to swallow.

"That's alright, I don't mind giving you some company until he wakes up," Ray said.

The old man stepped back to open the door wider, and allow the girl in, "Have a seat. I can make us some tea."

"Thank you, I'd like that very much."

Gramps walked off towards the kitchen, setting his cane aside, so he could fish for his usual kettle and fill it with water to boil. Meanwhile, Ray stared off to watch him make the drinks, not paying much attention to her surroundings.

"Hey."

Rachel jumped for a moment, then glanced at the couch, Zack was looking right at her, as he laid on the old furniture. There were obvious bags under his eyes, he hadn't slept a wink that night, and just stayed on that couch like he was sleeping - poor Gramps probably didn't notice the difference, judging by how quiet he was.

"Hey...a-are you feeling okay?" Ray asks.

"Should ask you the same…"

"What do you mea-...o-oh…" Ray stuttered, her eyes wandering to the floor. The incident prior, with the innocent puppy, and the momentary lapse of insanity. "I-I'm doing okay. Last night was quiet...so, no incidents."

"That's...okay, I guess…"

Soon, the two heard the loud whistling of the kettle, indicating that the tea was ready. Isaac groggily picked his body up to sit straight, while he rubbed at his eyes - he feels like complete hell. Rachel reached a hand out to the man to help him off the couch, he stared at it for a moment, then accepted her help. Ray needed two hands to pull him up, and watched the tall figure get to his feet. Zack let go of her hand, then gently ruffled her hair as a thank you, before leading the way to the kitchen.

Gramps was setting the cups and teapot onto a tray, before Zack walked up to do the work for him.

"Oh, you're awake...good morning," the old man said.

"Mornin', I'll get this...you go sit down…kay?"

"Ah? I got it, don't worry about it…"

"It's fine, go chat with Ray," Zack insisted. "...It's a nice day today…"

It was a fairly warm day, even with his sight gone, Gramps could tell what the weather would be by instinct alone. He turned his attention to the window, sensing the brightness of the sunlight against his disabled vision. It was a nice day.

"So it is...yeah, a perfect day to go out for a stroll," Gramps said, as he walked over to the table, with Zack following behind him. "You know, Zack...it's been a while since the cat passed on…I've been thinking, perhaps we could go pick up a kitten."

Isaac set the tea set on the table, and pour a cup for everyone present, himself included.

"A kitten?"

"Yeah, it's always been nice to have our cat accompany us on our walks. You were quite fond of them, when you were younger," Gramps said with a soft chuckle.

Ray noticed Zack pursing his lips in shyness, she could even sense the heat coming off his bandaged cheeks.

"...I never had a pet before, so the cat seemed pretty cool," Zack muttered. "...they were kind of funny too when I watched 'em play outside."

That orange tabby should chase butterflies, bat at grass, or play with Gramps' shoes, once they were slipped off. Then, there was the spurts of energy the cat would spend bolting about the house, or jumping about. It was one of Zack's sources of entertainment, even taking part by grabbing a stalk of tall grass and dangling it in front of the feline. Though, as the cat got older, the energetic little feline got slower, tired, until the day it eventually passed. He did miss them, even playing with them, but he didn't feel like he should replace all that.

"I'm not sure if we should get another cat yet...maybe one day…"

He doesn't want to replace Gramps either.

"Hmm, yes, maybe one day." the old man replied, as he added sugar to his tea.

"This is really good tea," Ray complimented. "Thank you for making it."

The rest of the morning was like this: comfortable, but faintly somber. The two wanted Gramps to be happy as possible with every passing day, and to make it seem like a blessing, despite the circumstances. Then, the next following days. Rachel made sure to visit regularly, while Zack stayed attentive to the old man's stories or ramblings. He wanted to remember everything he had to say, even if normal people thought of them boring, and hold every passing second dear, while he still had the chance. Days became weeks, then eventually, a couple of months.

Rachel had stopped by again, she had made a scarf for Gramps in home ec class, it was a simple patchwork of fleece - soft and warm for cold nights.

"You know what…? Let's all have dinner together. We can get the ingredients set up," the Gramps suggested, then turned to the man next to him. " Zack, could you fetch some fresh bread from the bakery?"

"Huh? Oh...um...alright. The usual?"

Gramps lightly nods, "I can give you some money."

"Nah...I'll treat us...stay here, and help Ray get things started…" Zack said, as he grabbed his hoodie and gloves.

The same bakery where Gramps always got their bread, he showed Zack where it was when he was younger, and the boy had to repress the need to gobble every baked good down. The memory made Zack chuckle to himself, the bakers seemed to understand when it came to hungry kids roaming around all the different sweets and breads; he knew some stared, but since he was with the old man, the other bakers assumed that it was part of the unfortunate life of poverty for his bandaged appearance. The oldest baker was even kind enough to give him a couple cookies, as Gramps shopped for bread.

Adjusting to people treating him differently was still hard to grasp, he feels like he does and doesn't belong in this world - like a wolf amongst sheep.

* * *

"Alright, the potatoes are almost finished baking. We just need to chop some of these vegetables," Gramps said. "Zack doesn't like them, but he does need to eat a little healthier."

That made Ray chuckle, she could imagine he was like a big kid who never grew out of their habits.

"I'm glad that Zack managed to make a good friend. I was so worried he would end up lonely by the time I was gone…" the old man muttered. "He's a bright boy, he really is...but I know that he needs some sort of guidance - especially when it comes to those outbursts of violence. Yes, I'm aware of the reason why he needs to step outside after each episode. Something affected him deeply, but I haven't learned as to why just yet. I've only helped mend that damage, but my time to piece together his broken soul is coming to an end."

Rachel stared at the old man, as his expression turned remorseful, "He's been in better spirits with someone like you around. Rachel, when I'm gone...could you please look after him?"

That made the girl freeze for a moment, "Look after him?"

Gramps lightly nods, "He's still distrusting of the world, but it's clear he's opened up to you. There's someone he can convey his worries to. Perhaps even one day, he might let you know why he was so troubled as a child…"

 _'You're not going to be alone. We haven't gotten to know each other very much, but I'd still like for you to consider me an ally of sorts...maybe, perhaps...a friend.'_

Those were the words Rachel told Zack to show her extended arm of companionship to the man.

 _'O-Okay...okay…'_

Zack needed guidance, he knew the kind of predicament she was in, and seemed understanding to her internal conflicts, but he himself had the kind of moral guidance given to him a little too late - but, perhaps...it may not be too late to fix it.

"Yeah, I'll watch over Zack, don't worry."

Now, Gramps had an expression of relief, like a weight was put off his shoulders, "Thank you, Rachel. You're a good friend."

The door creaked open, indicating that Zack returned with the bread. They heard the crinkling of the bakery paper, as the man was approaching the kitchen. He had gotten a loaf of French bread, as well as a smaller bag of desserts for them to enjoy after dinner. The meal consisted of roast chicken, baked potato, and a bowl of vegetables. True to Gramps' word, Isaac avoided the greens like the plague. They enjoyed the food, while the old man would share stories of the better times he lived, sometimes even how his life was in his youth. Rachel only shared a small amount, with Zack glancing at her from the corner of his eye, there was only one or two stories of innocence, but he knew the rest of what her home life was.

Once dinner was finished, Zack brought out a small bag of donuts that he bought for all of them as dessert. Even then, the group spent their time just mindlessly talking, even making Gramps laugh a couple of times. Both Zack and Ray can see the old man was happy to share this all with them. It's the happiest he's ever been.

"Thank you all for this, I really appreciate it. For so long, I've been quite lonely, only have acquaintances to say my hellos to, even as I entered my twilight years," Gramps said. "Then you, Zack, entered into my life...and you too, Rachel...I couldn't ask for better company…you've both been very wonderful."

Such a warm, but very somber atmosphere hung over the two youths. They're glad that their efforts during these passing times have made the old man live his final days at ease. He would leave no regrets or worries in this world. Yet, they still felt that twinge of sadness for the eventual parting.

"Yeah, no problem...glad yer' havin' a great time. We can do this again next weekend."

"I'd love that."

* * *

Night fell yet again, Rachel went home after cleaning up the table and dishes. Zack was helping Gramps into bed, he was much more exhausted than usual, and wanted to turn in early. The young man pulled the blanket back, as Gramps shuffled himself onto the mattress, before being tucked in.

"Ah, thank you. I am pretty sleepy today," the old man said with a yawn, trying to hide the faint wheeze behind it.

"Tomorrow's another day, right?" Zack said, before stepping back to let the old man rest. "Have a good night, okay?"

"Goodnight...and thank you, Zack."

Isaac glanced at the old man, and for once in his life, a smile appeared on his lips - a full and sincere one. He's grateful for everything Gramps had done for him. Without him, he wouldn't have known what he could have done, after escaping the Orphanage.

"Actually, before you go...could you come here for a moment?" Gramps asked.

"Huh? What's up?"

He approached the old man, watching him sit up, then extend an arm to yank him close. Before he knew it, Zack felt Gramps wrap him in his arms, giving the young man a hug. Isaac froze from this act, as the old man's warmth was all around him, soothing him, comforting him, and wiping away all of his inner turmoil for just this moment. His throat tightened again, as he felt like he was a child again, with Gramps showing him that familial acceptance he never received in his early youth. He takes a deep breath, then brings his arms up to give him one in return, something he's never done before. It's a different kind of feeling, but hugging Gramps like this, feels like home. Eventually, the two had to let go, for the old man to get some shut eye. Zack was reluctant, but Gramps' comfort was top priority.

"G'night, Gramps," Zack said, as he headed towards the door.

"Goodnight, Isaac…"

Zack paused in his steps for a moment, then glanced at the old man, lying in bed. His lips tightened for a moment, before he turned his attention to the floor. His mind wandered for a bit, Gramps did so much for him, yet there was one thing Zack closed him away from - his own past. Gramps shared his...so it would be fair to do the same in return.

"H-Hey, Gramps?"

"Hmm?"

No, it's late. The old man should listen when he's well rested.

"N-Nevermind, I'll tell ya' in the mornin'," Zack replied. "Goodnight."

* * *

"Mmh…" Isaac groaned, as he opened his eyes.

Today was an unusually hazy day, almost like it was going to rain. Zack picking himself up, so he could take a look outside and judge for himself. Somehow, the atmosphere in the home felt uneasily heavy. Like the heaviest of weights just roosted on his shoulders. He doesn't like this feeling, not at all, and it's making a pit form at his stomach.

The first instinct to come to him was to check on Gramps.

The young man shuffled down the hall, with the air only getting heavier as he took each step. It was tense but sordidly nostalgic, _very_ nostalgic - and it makes him want to vomit. He remembers, he wants to talk to the old man too, about everything.

"Gramps…"

The air had become cold as well, and his throat began to tighten for some reason. As Zack brought his hand up to turn the doorknob to the old man's room. Every second felt like hours, as Zack opened the door, and saw Gramps lying there, still sleeping like he left him. His head was comfortably rested on his pillow, hands kept at his torso, and the blanket still tucked at his body, without so much as a sign of shuffling during the night. It looked like the old man slept quite well.

"Gramps?" Zack quietly beckons.

He hates to disturb him, but Gramps was understanding when Zack checked up on him in the mornings - especially on those rare occasions when he slept in. The old man didn't stir. Perhaps Gramps was still in deep sleep to hear him, a light nudge often did the trick.

"Hey Gramps...good morning…" Zack said, as he approached the bed. His heart was finding itself at his throat, as he was close to the edge of the bed, and reached a hand up to carefully nudge him.

"Gramps…?"

 _Cold._

 _He's cold to the touch._

All breath left Zack, as he felt this familiar and sickening sensation, with his hand at Gramps' shoulder. Judging by the feel alone, Gramps had passed on, as soon as he drifted off to sleep. Right after saying his goodnights to Isaac.

 _'Goodnight, Isaac…'_

Gramps knew all along, that this was going to be their final goodbye...

"G-Gramps…"

He knows calling out to him is futile, Gramps was gone, but something deep inside of him felt denial - the little boy the kind old man took in was struggling to accept this loss. It was painful to swallow, breathe, even blink. There was a stinging sensation within Zack's eyes, and his light beckons grew more choked. His chest gave a heavy and sinking feeling, as well as an emotion of feeling completely lost in the world - he's never experienced such a thing in his youth, completely surrounded by death.

Zack felt his legs lose all ounce of strength, rendering him to collapse onto his knees, and kneel before the departed man on the bed. Isaac knew what it felt like to have life ripped from him, but this was the first time he felt it come crashing down.

He just sat there, on his knees, and his face buried in the top sheet of the bed.

For the first time, he felt despair…

* * *

"Zack?...Are you home?"

Rachel peeked her head inside of the home, after her knocks went unanswered for a while. She can see signs that Zack was awake, with his blanket bunched at the couch that he slept on. Further into the home, Ray noticed the door to Gramps' room was open, but she didn't hear a single peep. There was also something different within the air of the home, it was heavy and suffocating - contrasted to the warm and welcoming one.

"...Zack?"

The girl closed the door behind her, as she stepped inside, maybe she could take a quick look, before deciding that the two men must be out grocery shopping or running some kind of errand. With Gramps' door open, she assumed that would be the best place to look and take her guess as that. She quietly walked down the hallway, and noticed the air getting heavier. Within her chest, she felt a painful and sinking feeling, and she couldn't understand why - with every step, only came the sensation of dread.

Rachel approached the door, and pulled it a little wider to allow herself in. She noticed two figures in the room - Zack and Gramps. The old man was laying in bed, while Zack…

The young man was on his knees, face buried in the sheets, and refusing to leave the bedside. Nothing was said, and the air was unnaturally still. Rachel gazed at it all, and she knew deep down what was going on.

Isaac was grieving…

"Z-Zack…?"

The man barely flinched, it was hard to notice, but she did see a slight twitch in movement. He acknowledged that Rachel was present, which she took it as a sign to approach Zack. She took small steps, as to not rile him in an already emotional state, but as she looked at him, his face appeared catatonic. It was numb to everything right now, with no clear way to properly express the emotion he feels right now.

Gramps appeared peaceful and content, like all of the woes had left his earthly form, while he slept. At least when he died, it was a quiet and peaceful one. Still, Isaac was in pain, he just lost someone who meant the world to him.

 _'Rachel, when I'm gone...could you please look after him?'_

The girl stood beside Zack, then knelt down at the edge of the bed. She said nothing, keeping the dead silence constant between them. There were no words to say to make this situation feel a little better. Instead, she glances at the man for a moment, then leaned against him, and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. There were no words to express her sympathy and support, but a hug was more than enough to convey it.

Zack flinched again, sensing the warmth around him. It hurts, it hurts so much, especially since the last thing Gramps did was give him a hug before he departed. Everything about that night gave the signs that this was the last, but he was too naive to completely recognize it. The old man was never going to wake up.

Gramps said his goodbyes, and Zack never got the chance to tell him...his denial stopped him...he lied to himself. He _lied_. Now it's gone…

Ray felt the man nudge her arm off him, she recoiled to give Zack some space, then took a deep breath, "Zack...I know it hurts to lose someone who meant alot to you...and if you feel like you need to cry...you have every right to. There's nothing wrong with shedding some tears…"

His eyes stung unbearably, yet, they also felt so dry, even as he blinked to wet them. It was impossible to even have a single tear well up.

"...They've dried up...a long... _long_ time ago…" Zack said in a completely inanimate tone. It's clear that he was overwhelmed with the feeling of sorrow.

Silence filled the room yet again, Zack blinked a couple times until his hollow expression finally showed some emotion - a reluctant acceptance. There was nothing he could do, he knew the outcome, and it was inevitable to stop it. Isaac had been accustomed to death, and he knew what to do afterwards. The man got up to his feet, as he gazed at the old man's sleeping expression.

"...We gotta bury him…"

Before Ray could ask how, Isaac grabbed the old man's coat and hat, then dropped them in the girl's arms. He didn't hesitate to lean over the bed to coil the sheets around the old man's corpse. Keeping him as he slept, and to transport the body easily. A faint grunt escape Zack as he draped Gramps over his shoulder, and lead the way out of the home. Rachel followed suit, keeping the articles of clothing on hand, and making sure they wouldn't drag against the ground. Isaac walked to the side of the house, and yanked the shovel. He said nothing, and just walked into the forested area where the cat - even the puppy, were buried.

The bed of flowers the cat was buried under flourished greatly, making the forest floor look hauntingly beautiful. Zack just blankly stared, and made his internal decision - if these animals made a lonely section of the forest look beautiful, he could only imagine how Gramps could tend to it.

Zack set the corpse down, making sure not to disturb it too much, while he gripped onto the digging tool. He stared at it for a moment, how he loathed using it to bury corpses, because he was viewed as less than a human being. Ever since the death of the cat, he doesn't feel that disgust anymore, but having to do this for Gramps only added the heavy weight on his chest.

Gramps' words resonated in his head, as he stabbed into the earth - Loyalty, companionship, and deserving a proper burial for a peaceful, eternal rest. The old man deserved so much better, but this was all Zack had to offer. He was stuck in a state of subconscious automation. He just dug and dug without so much as thinking about everything else. Piles of dirt only grew, the more Zack threw it side, then eventually over his shoulder. The earth underneath him was flat under his feet, until now, it was at his chest. Soon, reality returned to Zack, and the grave made for the old man was wide and deep. He tossed the shovel up, so he could free his hands and hop back up onto the upper crust of the earth, and walk over to the old man's body. Isaac made sure the sheets were nice and tucked around Gramps' frame, as he picked up the body, and carefully lowered it into the deep grave. Rachel watched as Zack made sure to lay it delicately into the earth, as if it was the most fragile thing in the world. Soon, Gramps' body rested on the ground, Isaac brought himself down to make sure that nothing was shuffled out of place. He turned his attention to Rachel, and raised a hand up for her to hand him the old man's things. The girl handed him the coat first, watching him drape the article of clothing on the man's body, just as he had done for him as a child. Then, the final piece, the hat. He grasped the item when the girl handed it to him, and placed it where Gramps' frozen clasped hands were.

This was how Gramps was going to rest forever.

Zack stared at him, as he reflected on the final interaction with him - his full name being said, to the hug they shared. Gramps said his goodbyes.

The man took a deep breath, as he felt the painful sting in his eyes again.

"...Goodbye, Gramps…"

* * *

Before Zack and Rachel was a mound of earth, adorned with a large stone. The two said nothing for almost half an hour, they were too wrapped in their own thoughts to really utter a word. Upon the mound, laid two bundles of flowers, one was from Rachel, and the other was from Zack. A parting gift, as Gramps hinted.

Soon, there was a faint sound of shuffling, Isaac turned his attention to the girl, and noticed her kneeling before the mound, and clasping her hands together. Her eyes were closed, and her expression showed a serene collectiveness. This was odd behavior to him, he raised a brow, as he continued to watch her, even noticing her lips mouthing silence words that he couldn't hear.

"...What are you doing?"

Rachel continued her actions, until she slowly picked up her head, "I was praying for Gramps. I want to make sure he's forever at peace...in this world and the next…"

 _Forever at peace...in this world and the next._

If there was a next world, then Zack hopes it wasn't shit like this current one.

* * *

"I understand you're still grieving…" Ray says, "If you still need me around, then give the word."

Isaac blankly stared at the door of his home, then quietly opened it, "I think I need to be alone for a while...and think…"

"I understand…" Ray murmurs, "I'll try and sneak back later, okay?"

"Mh…"

Day turned to evening, until the last bits of sunlight no longer lit up the home. Isaac say there on the couch, it's painfully nostalgic, like the day when Gramps almost didn't come back home. His emotions bubbled up deep inside of himself - loneliness, anxiety, but most of all, anger. Gramps isn't coming back this time, Zack is left all alone.

He's alone…

He couldn't tell Gramps everything he kept hidden from the old man…

The weight of his past is becoming a heavier burden for him to bear. Zack has nothing to look forward to in every passing day.

 _'What will you do now?'_

The pain he feels in his chest is growing.

 _'You've been like a son to me…'_

The sting in his eyes feel unbearable.

 _'Goodnight, Isaac…'_

Suddenly, something deep inside of him shattered. The man gripped the sides of his head, stumbling to his feet, then let out a loud and painful shout at the top of his lungs. He's never let out such a cry in his life, it was filled with anger, pain, and sorrow, even the strength behind such a sound was enough to bring pain to his own vocal chords. The feeling in his own chest only added to it, and the memories he had of Gramps seemed to amplify every shred of internal pain that was consuming the man - it was to the point where he actually felt something wet form at his eyes.

This foreign dampness pooled at the corner of his eyes, until they soaked into his bandages. His cries continued on until he lost all breath too continue. Zack's fingers dug hard into his hair, as he began to tug at his black locks. His vision was blurred by the wetness of his eyes, as well as the flurry of emotions clouding his senses.

"Why the fuck did you have to die?!" he shouts, before ramming a fist into the wall.

Just punching the wall wasn't enough, he reeled his hand back, then settled both of them against the wall, and proceeded to ram his head against it. He didn't care how much damage he made or even if he injured himself, the pain he was inflicting on himself can't compare to what he was feeling now.

However, something began to burn deep inside of him, another sensation he struggled so hard to fight back, and it was numbing this pain rather _easily_. Isaac paused from his actions, and his mind sank back to reality, only for a split second; a memory came back to him, that glimmering object from the pile of lumber. Zack's bicolored eyes quickly strayed to where the lumber was kept. Gramps had fixed up the pile of lumber, without realizing it was Zack's outburst that had caused it - he had just assumed the box was too old to hold it all together anymore. The young man walked up to the pile of wood, and began to dig through it, he spotted that familiar shimmer, and grasped for the object.

The old bowie knife that caught his attention - still sharp as ever.

Silence filled the air, but the sounds ringing in Zack's ears was static...and the sounds of rainfall...

 _'I wanna kill…'_

 _'What will you do now?'_

 _'I wanna kill…'_

 _'You can become something you're not...or you can let your bitterness go, and become something far beyond your own potential…'_

 _'I wanna kill…'_

 _'I don't believe you're a monster at all…'_

 _'I…'_

 _'You are not a monster. You are just as human as I.'_

 _'I…'_

 _'There's an area that no man should cross, when it came to taking a life - it's a point of no return.'_

 _'I'm…'_

 _'That is when people really become monsters.'_

 _'I'm a…'_

 _'A son…'_

An ear to ear grin flashed in Zack's head, as well as the memory of the metallic scent of blood.

 _'A_ **_monster_ ** _…'_

* * *

" _HYAHAHA!_ "

* * *

The shack was completely dark, no signs of a lamp or LED lantern lighting the home, as Rachel quietly approached the place. She appeared anxious, as if she knew she was going against her parents' wishes by sneaking out late at night. She peeked behind herself for a moment, before bringing a hand up to knock at the door, but at the first tap, the door moved to open up. The door was never fully closed, which surprised her.

Again, the house is empty, but something about its condition perturbed her. The couch Isaac slept on was almost destroyed, the fabric showed signs that something had torn viciously into them, like a wild animal tearing into flesh. A cold sweat formed at her brow, and she felt her heart at her throat.

"Zack?...A-Are you in here?"

She saw Zack's bat on the floor, as well as the rest of the furniture in shambles; was his home broken into?

The girl wandered inside, not sensing a single soul in the home - perhaps this was the case. There were no valuables for thieves to take, so whoever waltzed in must've vandalized it instead. Rachel checked all of the rooms, they were completely destroyed, but the only one left untouched, was Gramps' room.

"...Did Zack do all this?"

She approached the couch, and felt at the fabric. They were shredded and torn, with every single one looking like a clean cut. It didn't stop just there, the blanket that Zack would sleep with was also torn up. Everything indicated pure rage inside this home.

* * *

" _Hyahahaha!_ "

The town alleys ran red with blood, and each victim was random. Whoever roamed alone that night, had their lives snuffed out.

The familiar rush of the kill, the strong scent of warm blood, and the satisfaction of seeing the face of despair.

 _'I wanted to kill a guy...so I killed him…'_

The bat was no longer needed.

* * *

"Zack…"

Soon, she sensed someone approaching the home, she saw a figure getting closer, until they slowly opened the door. No words were said, all Rachel could see of the figure was shadows, and piercing eyes staring right at her. They were the look of a predator. She could pick up the strong metallic scent coming off from him, and from the incident with the puppy, it was easy to detect that it was blood. Faint growls came from the figure, and a glimmer caught Ray's eyes - a knife, soaked with fresh blood. The girl could feel her heart pounding against her chest, then glanced back up at the figure at the doorway, despite the shadows blocking their features, she spotted a familiarity from them. That gold eye; Zack's gold eye.

"Zack...a-are you hurt?"

A demented chuckle escaped from him, as he approached the girl. Despite her concern, he could sense her fear.

"I wanna kill…"

Ray swallowed hard, her mind was telling her to get up and run. This man she had befriended had become something else, something terrifying.

Isaac was trapped in his memories and instincts, for so long he's repressed his killer desires, and had nearly forgotten how gleeful it made him to take down his prey. Beating a victim into unconsciousness didn't give him this kind of thrill during all those years. However, the number of people he just killed didn't seem to satisfy him just yet, especially when there's a live one right in front of him. He doesn't even acknowledge exactly who it is before him, as his blood-frenzied vision only distorted his judgement.

"I wanna kill...I wanna kill...I wanna kill…"

His voice is growing more frenzied, as he got closer to the girl. Rachel knows that if she stays, then the man she considered a friend will kill her. She took a step back, ready to run anywhere in the home, but something sparked in her mind.

 _'I saw rage and sorrow in him, and it's this side that makes him act out so violently at times…'_

The voice of the old man, as he talked to Rachel about Zack and his episodes.

 _'I promised him...I promised to look after Zack...I can't run, or I'll be breaking it…'_ she thinks. _  
_

"Zack…"

Hearing her voice, made the man wince, but quickly shook himself back into his crazed state. This gave Ray a glimmer of hope; he was still in there, that sliver of his consciousness was able to recognize her voice, but his bloodlust is blocking it from coming back out.

Zack growled, glaring at the girl before him, "I wanna kill so fuckin' bad! It's driving me CRAZY!"

He lunged an arm out, and immediately grasped Rachel by the neck, squeezing tightly, while his eyes focused intensely on hers - as if he wants to watch the light fade out. Ray gasped and sputtered, feeling the pain of the man's grip tightening around her neck, as well as the air being ripped right out of her. Every second feels long and drawn out, as she tries to get every ounce of breath, before it was cut off completely. She tries to focus on the man, seeing his gritted teeth form into a demented smile, as if he was taking pleasure in snuffing out a life.

She can't fight back, she knows how to, thanks to Zack, but this was not the situation for it. She needs words. She needs to keep Gramps' promise.

Zack was lost and hurt, and without Gramps, he no longer had the guidance to keep him on the right path.

"I...I know...th-that...you're in pain…" Ray squeaks out. "...n-not just from Gramps...b-but from something else…"

"Shut up!"

He begins to raise the bloodied bowie knife, keeping it secure in his palm, and ready to stab at any given moment.

"W-Whatever is making you hurt, Zack...y-you're not alone to have someone to fall back to…" Ray continues, noticing his grip loosen a little. "S-So please...let me ask you this...is it okay with you?"

"Th' fuck you tryin' t' say, bitch?"

"Is it alright with you to kill me? Y-Your only remaining friend?"

"Are you fucking threatening me?" Zack growls, bringing the blade to her cheek.

"N-No...I'm not...I'm not trying to command you to do things either…but please, hear me out," Rachel says. "I'm the only friend you have left in this world...even as you are now, I still consider you my friend - and a person. I won't leave you all alone...but you're about to arrange that for yourself."

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

"I want to be by your side when you need it most...I know I'm not like Gramps...but I still want to help shoulder whatever woes you have…" she says, with no intent on stopping to get through to him. "If you kill me now...then you'll truly be all alone, with no one left who truly understands the kind of person you are…"

Isaac pauses, and Ray can sense some of his sanity trying to break through.

"So I will ask again...is this okay with you?"

Memories continue to flood his mind all over again, like a migraine torrenting against his skull to fuel his rage and need to shed blood. However, they began to conflict with each other; from the good memories, to the outright traumatizing.

 _'You're not going to be alone. We haven't gotten to know each other very much, but I'd still like for you to consider me an ally of sorts...maybe, perhaps...a friend.'_

Friend…

Gramps used that word so many times.

Friend, friend, friend...someone who he can lower his guard around...to help...to be there...to not leave him alone…

They're about to die…

Rachel felt the hand around her throat steadily releasing its grip on her, finally allowing a good sum of air to return to her lungs. She stayed still, knowing that the wrong kind of movement might trigger the man from regaining his senses. Her blue eyes focused on the knife touching her cheek, gradually, it began to back away from her form, as Isaac stoically glared at her.

The girl just glanced back up at Zack, showing no fear in her expression, but concern, "That night...the incident with the puppy...you were there to comfort me when I was at my darkest moment...I wish to do the same for you...if you would allow me…all you need to do, is to just let go…"

The grip around her neck finally released itself completely, showing some redding on her skin, but enough space for Rachel to step back a little, and give Zack the space to lower his hands altogether. Isaac kept his predatory glare on the girl, but she can see his sanity was slipping through the cracks to regain control of his senses. His hands, however, were shaking, with his knife hand daring to rise up and strike at her. He's still fighting himself, and it was proving to be a struggle. She needs to give him a little bit a leverage to regain control.

"Zack…" she softly beckons. "Please...could you hand me the knife?"

She never extended her hands demandingly, raised her voice, or anything in an aggressive manner. Ray stayed calm and collected, as she raised her hands up, and cupped them together, as a sign for him to place them in her palms at his own accord.

She wants him to make the choice, and even added the word ' _Please'_ to give him the reassurance that he had a choice, not a command.

Zack's hazed eyes changed focus to her hands, noticing how they were position. It was hard to tell what the man was thinking behind his blood-crazed stare, but his body was showing signs of giving into reality. His hands slowly raised up, changing the grip on the hilt of the blade, to where the edge faced the side; he was going to lay it down, instead of stabbing it forward. The air a thick from tension, but neither one made any sudden moves, they stayed quiet and automatic, as Zack placed the knife in her palms, and watched her delicate fingers clasp the object to set it elsewhere.

"How the fuck are you going to help me?" he says with a growl. His trembling hands grasped the sides of his head and roughly tugged at his onyx hair. "I'm fiending to kill, Ray...and I dunno how long I can keep my fuckin head straight. I could slip any second, n' strangle the life right outta you."

The girl said nothing, only setting the knife down onto the table from Zack's accessible reach. Once she knew that the man couldn't just grab it on the fly, she returned to the man's side, and set her hands on the man's bloodied hoodie, and proceeded to unzip it. Isaac watched, getting a chill down his spine, as well as a feeling of discomfort - what was she doing? Rachel never uttered a peep, instead, she just kept her actions going. She opened the hoodie, and pulled it off his form, letting it drop to the floor, and keeping him in his clean, bloodless shirt. Then, she locked eyes on him for a second, as she carefully backed herself onto the tattered couch, and sat herself down. Refusing to break eye contact, she brought her hands up, and pat at her lap.

Isaac was an adult, and he had learned much from a combination of Gramps' education, his time stalking on the streets, as well as a charitable tutor during his childhood - possibly at the old man's request. He learned some body language, as well as signs. It made him even more uncomfortable - was this really what she planned to do to ease his pain, and to repress his desire to kill? The idea of spending it all on…

It made him feel _sick_.

"...I'm not into that…"

Her expression was something he didn't expect; she was taken aback, more startled, and perhaps a little embarrassed. He noticed the slight red in her cheeks through the darkness as she shyly shook her head to reassure him.

"N-No...nothing of the sort…" she sputters, knowing full well what Zack could've implied by mistake. That was a bit of relief that Rachel wasn't entirely naive - and had plenty of dignity. The girl decided to just pat at the couch cushion instead to show what she really meant. "Come sit, okay?"

"How's that gonna help?"

"Just sit, and we'll see…"

She smiled at him, making some of his killer desires just pause for a second. It should've triggered him to just lunge and take the kill, but her smile didn't. It was sincere, yes, but her eyes showed something else - they were still dead and hollow. Maybe the lack of life behind them is what's stopping him. His legs were hesitant to move, but he mustered every bit of willpower to force them to walk. Zack walked up to the slashed couch, seeing the amount of rage he tore into it, but noticed Ray was directing his attention back to her. He swallowed hard, and turned himself around to sit on the furniture beside her.

Now what?

With no word of warning, the girl gently grasps Zack by the shoulders, and motioned to guide Zack to lay down on his side. She sensed a little resistance at first, but Rachel stayed calm, paused for a moment, until she noticed his body relax and allow her to continue. Isaac was still mentally uncomfortable with all of this, as she rested his head on her lap. This feels weird, very weird. He doesn't know what she's doing - hell, what _he's_ doing exactly to let her do this. Right now, he feels tense, lost, with his frenzy just lingering to take hold again.

"So, now wha-"

Something brushes through his hair and gently rubs his scalp. The man locked up for a second, as his mind tried to process what happened - fingers, Ray's fingers are combing through his hair so softly and gently. It's strange, but somehow, his body is easing its tenseness with every stroke. Her digits were small and delicate and the pads of her fingers were plush enough to rub at the scalp of his head. His eyes almost wanted to close - perhaps even roll back from how it was making him feel for a second. A faint noise rumbled in his throat, as Rachel continued, followed by a quiet sigh. She can sense the heaviness leave the air bit by bit, and could feel Zack's body lean even more onto her lap. She can tell by this, that he was relaxing, and his troubled mind was distracted by other things. Zack could nod off and sleep any moment.

"Hey, Zack…"

"Mhh…"

"On my darkest days...there was something in my home that would bring a little bit of light in my life. I had a music box that I got when I was very young, back when life used to be peaceful. Every time I listened to the music, it would help bring those good memories back, and make everything bad go away - even if it was just for a moment," Ray said. "I may not have it with me now, but I know every note by heart...is it okay if I sing it to you?"

Zack felt a faint skip in his chest, followed by a warmth in his cheeks, but he needed something - anything, to help quell the darkness overwhelming him.

"...Sure."

Ray glanced down at the man, smiling tenderly at him, as she watched him lay there. Bringing the melody to memory, she began to hum a sweet and gentle tune to the man. Her fingers continued to stroke and comb his hair, letting every bit of comforting attention chase away his inner demons, and remind him that he isn't alone. She was here, and willing to help. Isaac's stormy mind began to grow quiet, until he finally felt the spell of sleep take hold, calming the man into slumber. If Rachel's parents were going to be upset with her, she did not care, she knows where her presence was most needed - even if it meant staying the night.

"Goodnight, Zack…"

And let tomorrow be a peaceful day...


	5. Act 1: Chapter 5

Rachel woke to the sound of running water. She picked herself up and noticed that she had dozed off on the tattered couch, in Zack's home. The girl knows that her parents were going to be livid, but that wasn't her biggest worry right now. She remembers everything that night, the night Isaac had snapped.

Zack kept a blank expression as he washed off all the dried blood off his skin. Due to a lack of a washing machine, he had taken his clothes with him to clean all specks of evidence off the cloth. The shower floor was shaded with a mixture of brown, red, and pink, as the blood mixed with the water and swirled down the drain. His memory flashed between lucidity and a blur, but not once did he feel any sort of emotion - not anger, sadness, or remorse. Perhaps he did feel at least one sensation during it all, he felt elated.

 _'Gramps told me that Zack had episodes...but I never expected how severe his repression for violence was…'_ Ray thought to herself, as she shuffled into the kitchen. _'...or maybe he did know, and chose to keep it on the downlow for my sake?'_

The shower eventually stopped, and humidity began to leave the bathroom. Zack had hung his wet clothes on a rod inside of the tub, letting them dry, while he slipped on a different change in attire. She watched the man quietly walk into the living room, before noticing her in the kitchen. Ray had begun to make breakfast for the both of them.

"Good morning, Zack...have you slept well?"

"...I guess…"

It's as if she was pretending the whole event never happened; but it did, what Zack had committed was something that neither of them should ignore - or, perhaps it was merely a mental shelf to keep this girl's fragile sanity intact? Rachel was frighteningly mature for her age, after all.

The two sat at the table, eating a plate of eggs and bacon, with nothing but silence filling the room. Tension cut through the air like a knife, knowing that there was nothing normal about their current breakfast together. Isaac didn't just murder someone, he massacred several. Keeping the food down was difficult, Zack's throat felt tight, as the memories continued to spark in his mind, even all the way back to his very first murder. Killing for freedom, killing for shelter, then killing for the hell of it.

 _'What will you do now…?'_

Gramps' words never left him, possibly never will. Isaac thought about how he felt that day as he slaughtered all those people, how their stupidly happy faces contorted to shock and horror, and the glee that filled him to the very core. He remembers the laughter.

"What I want to do…"

"Did you say something, Zack?" Ray asks.

"I know what I want to do…" Zack continues. His stare was cold and menacing, with a depraved smile creeping on his lips.

Ray felt a twinge of fear bubbling within her, seeing this side of Zack was something she was not accustomed to, and probably wasn't sure she will. Isaac's off-colored eyes glanced down at his scarred hands, recalling how they were completely soaked in fresh blood, just like the first night of his freedom. Smiles, how he loathed the smiles of people, and how they all had some sort of entitlement behind them all - just like the people in the Orphanage, and just like the man who scorched him. Every bastard who dared to curve their lips in such a way deserved to be wiped off the face of the earth.

Memories continued to spiral in his head, but one that stuck out the most was that shitty slasher flick, and how the killer smiled so gleefully when tearing apart that happy couple.

"I want to twist the faces of every grinning fucker into one of despair. I want to slice them all into bits," Zack said, his voice contorting into a low and beastial growl.

 _'I wanted to kill a guy...so I killed them…'_

His vision focused back on the girl sitting with him, and noticed the unnerved expression on her face. This only made his twisted grin grow ear to ear. He slammed his hands on the table and creepily leaned close, almost like a wolf ready to lunge at the jugular on their prey.

"Are ya' scared of me, Ray?"

Instinct would say yes, but the more Rachel stared at this man she's visited frequently, the more her memories spark to a gruff man, pained with this darkness brewing within him. She also sees the very same man who gave her the confidence she lacked for so long. Zack even took the initiative to snap her out of that very same darkness, and console her to help tie her back to reality.

 _'I promised Gramps, that I would watch Zack for him…'_ she thought to herself. _'He was right to make this promise…he's lost right now...'_

"No...I'm not scared of you…" Ray said. "You're still Zack, and nothing is going to change that."

That answer made his mind go blank for a second, how was he supposed to react? It's a familiar, nostalgic confusion, but his bloodlust wasn't satisfied, and an annoyed growl rumbled in his throat.

"You should be...you know I fucking _hate_ lies, Ray…" he uttered. With no warning, he pulled out the old bowie knife he tucked in his back pocket, and pressed the sharp blade against the tender skin of her neck. "I could kill ya' any second now."

Ray can feel the edges brush against her skin, she knows that any slight show of force could cut right into it, but her expression remained the same - stoic. The threat of death didn't even make her budge.

"Do you really want to?"

 _'Yes...yes...n-no...I don't fucking know…'_ Zack's thoughts spiraled, as he clenched his teeth.

He wants to kill again, nonstop, it would be so easy to just do it right now, just flick his wrist, and fresh blood would be spilled. With Ray, his hands refuses to move an inch, the more he looks at her, at the girl's dead eyes, a mental wall built itself around his savage instincts that stops him from going further. Even last night, as he nearly did try to kill her, she stayed so calm and patient, and eventually talked him down.

How fucking boring…

Isaac let out an annoyed sigh, reluctantly pulling his knife back, and stabbed it into the wood of the table. He gave her a look that clearly said - _you're no fun_. During the remainder of the day, Isaac was back to being blunt but clear-headed, like he's been when they met. Though, he didn't have much to say, keeping a conversation was difficult, especially since there was still a vibe of grief coming from him. It's clear that Zack still misses Gramps. The outside world, however, wasn't silent as they were, sirens blared loudly all day, with people behaving in a panic - never have they imagined that a killer would be in their midst. First was the string of assaults and robberies, now the crime had escalated to darker territory. They both know, but the entire day, Rachel kept her cool and tried to downplay it all like it was nothing. Just like the incident with the puppy, it was Ray's turn to console the man.

"Hey, Zack…?"

"Mmh?"

"Let's go outside for a bit to walk…"

"That's a fucking stupid idea, Ray...with all those people freaking out?" Zack growled.

"No, not into town, but along the riverside. Just us, while everyone else is away…"

Isaac glanced at the girl, as he raised a brow. The riverside was seldom busy, and now with the recent chaotic events, the riverside was going to be completely empty. It'll help keep Zack in a calm state of mind, as they went for a change in atmosphere.

"...Alright…"

Everyone has breaking points, Zack made that clear to Ray during the puppy incident. He was right, but she knows that the man's own issues were much more deep rooted than her own. She's seen him fight it, even vent it out with those empty bat swings, but all it took was some grief to reach that breaking point. Gramps was his anchor, something for Zack's killer mind to switch towards a more protective mode, when in reality, it was the old man that did the protecting.

' _There, there…_ ' Zack's soft words echoed in her mind.

Ray knows she has big shoes to fill, but remembering how Zack comforted her in her own time of weakness, then maybe perhaps, she can fulfill Gramps' wish after all.

* * *

"Y' know yer' folks are gonna be pissed…" Zack grumbled.

"I know...but I have no choice but to go back. I don't want my father finding where you live...and I don't want him to pick up suspicions about you…" Ray said with a defeated sigh. "If he sees the state of this place...he'll definitely go out of his way to pin this all on you."

"I did do it though…"

"You know what I mean, Zack. You're already on his bad side, and he likes to make other people miserable. Do you want him to throw you in jail?"

"No, cuz now I can imagine that shit-eating grin if he did..."

Ray can see the man clench a fist, she raised her hands up to gently clasp his and help calm him down. She doesn't want to leave, she doesn't want Zack to mentally collapse again, especially when he needed it the most, but they were both put into a position where being separated wasn't much of a choice. Isaac's fist loosened, as she sensed Ray massage at his palm to help ease his mind. It's weird, but oddly soothing.

Zack sighed to himself, he knows Ray has no choice, but thinking about it gave him a sickening feeling in his stomach.

"I don't want yer' folks to smack you around…" he mumbled. "If ya' get fed up with em' you can swing by whenever...or somethin'..."

"I'll consider your offer, Zack…but I'm afraid if I stay out longer, that'll only anger them." Ray replies. "...Zack, try not to get into any trouble...or at the very least, get caught…"

His response was to ruffle her hair into a messy fluff, "Man, don't get yer' damn panties in a wad, I'll be fine...you should worry more about yourself."

He watched Ray step back to head out the door, but it was clear she was still hesitant to go, almost as if she was waiting to hear words for her to stay; there was no way it could happen, not with her father as a police officer. Isaac just gestured for her to go, giving her a slight smirk of confidence - something to give Ray the courage to stand her ground, should things go sour.

Ray took a deep breath, psyching herself up, and finally left the premises. Isaac was by himself now, no cat and no Gramps to keep him company. There was nothing but him, and the darkness welling up in him again.

' _The more you kill, the more numb you become to it all, and forget what it means to be a person._ '

Zack remembers those words, the night where he and Gramps had a heart-to-heart. His off-colored eyes glanced down at his hand, and recalled it soaked in blood that night, it still feels fresh in his mind, like no amount of water could wash that feeling away. Then, he recalls how he felt as he slaughtered each person who dared to wander the streets that night. Ecstatic, elated, every joyous feel-good sensation coursing through his being just to see people's overzealous smiles twist into expressions of pure horror and despair. He did that, he had the power to make people fear him, while he snuffed out their lives with absolute ease - again and _again_.

A bitter laugh broke the silence of his brooding. He's chosen what he wanted to do in his life, even as he unrepentantly admitted to Rachel about it.

"Yeah...I'm a monster…"

* * *

There was nothing to stem Zack's killer needs anymore, he was left alone to his own devices, and he's already made his decision of what to do with his life. What little shred of normalcy he had for years was dead. Isaac was no longer the young boy who accompanied the shaggy old man into town, Isaac became a serial killer, it was as if it was a calling that went unanswered for so long. Every stab made the life he once lived gradually fade in his mind, every scent of blood made him forget the friendlier faces towards him, and every life he snuffed out reminded him that monsters were never meant to live amongst the populace.

Monsters are not normal.

"Hyahaha!" Zack cackled, grinning ear to ear, as he was soaked in the blood of his latest victim.

However, Zack wasn't alone, as soon as he calmed down, he heard footsteps approaching his direction. The man growled as he turned in the direction of the noise, and pointed the tip of his sullied blade in the direction of the intruder. Whoever dared to walk in on his murder, was the next victim to the pile.

Instincts began to rise, telling him that something was off. A strange scent began to waft in his nostrils - it was kind of sweet, but it had an odd fishy after scent to it. Then the area around him turned into a strange shade of purple. His gullet gave him a sinking sensation, that everything was all wrong, along with an impending sense of danger, he couldn't figure out at all, as the intruder had yet to show themselves.

"Whoever the fuck you are, show yourself...if yer' gonna run, then it'll only make it much more fun for me!"

The footsteps got closer, as did the odd scent. Instincts continued to nag him to run, but this was Zack, he's the one that makes people run, not the opposite. The figure finally made themselves known, from the shadows, he saw a middle-aged man, adorned in some sort of regal attire. Isaac raised a brow, he can see a collar of sorts around the man's neck, something Gramps told him that this person was a man of the church. Why the fuck were his instincts going haywire over a simple priest?

"Come here to die too, old man?"

"I came here to observe," the man replied with a slight grin. He was clearly not afraid of him. "I watched you slay those people last night, and you were quite the interesting subject. Behind your strikes, it was clear you have been repressing such a nature for so long. Now you're more into indulging such an act without a single shred of remorse. It's as if you were made to do this...I would like to observe you a bit further…"

The priest had been watching him this whole time? He was a witness, but how he said his curiosity of Zack's murders made his hairs stand on the back of his neck, something was really off about this priest.

"You some kind of creepy fuckin' stalker?" Zack said, feeling a cold sweat soak into his wrappings. "Nah, I'm not gonna have any of it. No witnesses…"

Isaac changed his grip on the hilt of his knife, and readied his stance for a charge.

"I'm gonna give ya' a count of three…"

The priest didn't budge, more of less show a shred of panic, as death was ready to pounce. As Isaac began to count down the numbers, the priest merely held up his Bible, and nonchalantly flipped through the gilded pages. Something about the pages triggered Zack's instincts again, as a cloud of purple erupted from the bible, and filled Zack's nostrils with that strange scent yet again.

Then, the world around him turned pitch black.

Zack was trapped between two worlds, reality, and his subconscious - right now, he felt trapped in some sort of odd abyss, while in reality, he was frozen where he stood. Then, what occurred next, could be Zack's own version of what hell could be. Memories flooded through him, like a violent torrent. It hurts, it hurts so much, like his skull could burst any second now. Isaac's body collapsed onto his knees, and gripped the sides of his head, with his fingernails digging hard into the scalp. Pain coursed through his entire body, the lucity of these memories thrust him into reliving every single second. The pain of loss, the pain of starvation, but most of all, the pain of fire eating away his flesh.

"Stop...stop...stop...make it stop…!" Zack rambled.

The priest watched on, appearing it's as if he stepped into the nightmarish dreamspace, and watched every passing second of Zack's life and the tortures he endured that made him this way. However, one particular thing was key that showed the priest what caused Zack's homicidal repression, the one person who offered him kindness in his time of need - Gramps, and the pain Zack feels on the day he died.

"Please… _Please!_ Make it stop!"

Zack's actually begging, rendered at this stranger's mercy, as all the pain continued to shock through his entire being. Is this what divine punishment was? The priest watched as the young man writhed in pain, almost pitying this creature.

"I think I understand just what kind of person you are now…" he said, as he calmly raised a hand, then snapped his fingers.

Just like that, the nightmare stopped. Isaac's vision was slapped back to reality, with him huddled on the cold ground. He breathed heavily, shaking, and frantic as all the pain he was enduring suddenly disappeared. Isaac felt like his world was spinning, while he struggled to regain his proper senses. His stomach began to twist into knots from the sensory overload he just endured seconds ago, and trying to reprocess everything made him nauseous.

Saliva nearly poured out of his mouth, while his gut gurgled from the bile that began to build up. He couldn't hold back any longer, Zack began to violently heave, until he emptied out his stomach onto the bloodied concrete ground. Nothing in this would could make him as sickened as this, not even the most rotten piece of trash he was forced to ingest to survive.

For the priest, he saw everything about Zack; his burns, his starvation, and his first taste for blood. It was from there he saw something interesting about Zack - wings. He saw pure angelic, crystalline wings emerge from the boy from the very moment he tore into flesh. When Gramps came into the picture, it was like those wings stayed rested, almost returning to Zack's flesh and grounding him back into the realm of humanity. There was still urges, very strong urges that he fought back for so long, it was like his wings were trying to break free from his human binds and spread free once again. The priest still have to admit, he does admire the humble patience and kindness Gramps showed this strange being. All it took was a death to finally free those wings, and no longer inhibit Zack from returning to his true nature.

Isaac finally returned to his senses. After the painful purging of his stomach, he growled to himself, as he glanced at the bastard that rendered him to such a pathetic state.

"What the fuck did you do to me? Dope me up?"

"Nothing of the sort. What occurred was, I looked into your very soul...Isaac Foster…"

Zack's blood ran cold, as he stared at the priest.

"Th' fuck you just say?"

"That is your name, is it not?" the priest asked. "You take lives without a shred of remorse, almost like you were born to commit such an act. Yes, you emit a pure energy...given your brief moment of indulgence…"

Isaac grasped for the bowie knife yet again, and aimed it right at the priest. He was going to kill this bastard, not only for making Zack endure such a hell like that, but because he also knows everything about him.

"I'm gonna kill you…"

"Are you now?" The priest asked, keeping an amused smile on his face. "If it's killing that you desire...then perhaps you would like to hear a proposition I have to offer."

Zack shuffled onto his feet, feeling they had been weakened from that hallucination, but his stamina was quick to recover - that was all he needed.

"You could kill me now, and that's that...or I could offer you a place where you could kill as much as you want…" said the priest. "I could use someone such as you as part of my flock."

"Ain't gonna fall for that...what kind of priest offers some stranger to kill folks, huh?" Zack asked. "This is some kind of setup...where's yer' wire?"

"There is no entrapment or deception. If you could accompany me, I can better explain the plans I currently have going in motion…" the priest replied. "I suppose it is rude of me to not properly introduce myself...I am Reverend Abraham Gray…"

"I don't care...if this is a trap, I'm gonna gut you first, then every cop that tries to take me down…"

"Fair enough, follow me…"

* * *

This priest, by the name of Reverend Gray explained everything to Zack, as he lead him to the location of his choosing. Gray wanted to play the role of God, and observe human subjects to see what humanity really was through unclouded vision. What he was looking for was pure beings, people with no qualms to killing other humans to serve as his Angels. Given Isaac was a simple man, and his talent for killing came naturally, he was an ideal candidate.

Zack, however, selectively heard bits and pieces of Gray's pious speech. The priest seemed to sense that, Isaac was a simple man, with simple thoughts, and simple desires, which made him all the more ideal.

"I guess I should rephrase my words into something easier to understand. I'm beginning a study - a passion project of sorts, and all I need are people that have no issues in taking another life. You fit the bill."

"How you gonna pull this off without alerting the fuzz?" Zack asked with skepticism.

"I have my secrets, and I do have a special place where this can take place," Gray replied, until he ceased in his steps. "Speaking of, here we are."

The two men stood in the more derelict side of town, while the priest stood proudly in front of the building. Zack glanced onward, wondering why this was so important to the holy man. It was a large building, possibly a former office building, or apartment complex, but it had been abandoned for so long, and left to ruin. Was he really going to let people kill freely in this dump?

"Well, what do you think?"

"...It's a run-down shit hole…" Zack grumbles.

"That's the intention, on the outside, people will look the other way, what really counts is on the inside. I have been working for years to create an elaborate labyrinth for future subjects to wander and reflect on themselves. Each level will cater to the tastes of each Angel, and with you on board...I can make you a personalized floor as well," Gray said.

He turned to the young man, and extended a hand to him. Firm and straight with his palm open to accept his - a direct handshake.

"I would like to recruit you as one of my Angels…"

Isaac didn't care much for the aspects of an angel, he couldn't give a shit in general of Gray's purpose, there was only one thing in mind he cared for - a new calling in life.

What he wants to do...he wants to kill…

He can kill as freely as he wants, and there would be no going back if he became this angel. Zack slowly drew his hand out, a bit hesitant to accept this stranger's offer. He barely knows this priest, but the prospect in sating his murder cravings was a strong offer to ignore. He nearly grazed the priest's fingers until a memory flashed in his mind - Rachel, her strong will and patience as he lost his mind that day, even risking the wrath of her parents to spend the night and sooth him. Zack could even recall the gentle fingers combing through his hair, and soft voice singing a lullaby that coaxed him into sleep. Ray is trying her best to help Zack with his own inner demons, and he was about to throw his share all away when it came to her. He can never forget that face, covered in blood and clearly crazed as she stitched that puppy together.

If he accepts now, then that would mean abandoning her.

"I…" Zack paused. "I'm gonna sleep on it…"

Gray can see those crystalline wings start to fold once more.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah...it's tempting n' all...but I'm gonna think it over," Zack said.

"I see...well, if you do reconsider your options, my offer will always be open."

"...Thanks, I guess…" Zack muttered before backing away. He glanced up at the decrepit building, memorizing every detail about it, so he could find his way back when they time does arrive to accept this stranger's offer.

Gray watched the killer walk away, he had a slight expression of disappointment, but he had this feeling deep down about Isaac.

"Something still ties him down, perhaps he needs time to shed his human desires before returning. I know he'll return…"

* * *

"An Angel…" Zack muttered to himself. He really wanted to accept that offer, but he still feels a strong attachment to that dead-eyed girl. Leaving her just wouldn't feel right, especially after what she's done for Gramps, and for him. To just up and leave would make him feel like shit.

"Fuck...what should I do?" he grumbles, as he leaned against the wall. "Why did you have to die, Gramps?"

To kill freely, answer his calling...or hold onto the broken threads of normalcy to continue the strange friendship with that girl - once again, Zack feels at a loss, and stuck in a mental crossroad.

* * *

It's been days since Ray left to face her parents, Isaac would probably ask her what path he could take, after all, her answer from before never left his head.

 _'I'm not scared of you…'_

Even if he killed a thousand people in front of her…

Gramps was right to have them form some sort of bond. Just one thing though, where was she, and what happened to her? Zack had been laying on the couch, welling on his thoughts on that strange encounter, but also curiosity as to what happened to that girl. Normally she would give a hint of her whereabouts, or try to sneak out from her house, but she had done neither these past few days. Maybe he did scare her away, or maybe not. Perhaps he could try and sneak to her place, and check on her well-being. Chances were high he might have to deal with her shitty father, but nothing like a swift punch to the face wouldn't do.

He left their home, taking his sharp bowie knife in tow. If her father did try anything funny, then maybe he can settle Ray's problem for good - that would be a load off his mind. However, he did have a slight sense of dread. He never forgot about finding her in the alley, caked in blood with that sewn up puppy. Seeing her in that state, he doesn't know why he feels emotions about it - mostly pity and regret, almost like a sense of failure. It's the same feeling he got when he lost Gramps.

That realization became an epiphany.

* * *

The roads were a deathly calm, there was no question why, who would be around when there's a serial killer on the loose? Still, even with the threat of him looming about, Zack would still hear the constant shouting matches between Rachel's parents.

Tonight was absolute silence, there was no shouting, no items being thrown about, not even the townhouse that they resided in was lit. The home looked like they had either turned in for the night, or perhaps was outright left behind. Nothing felt right about this situation, he can't exactly put his finger on it, but the vibe in the air was almost similar to him finding Ray with the puppy in the alley.

 _'How the fuck can I get her attention? Are her parents asleep? Shit, which one is her window?'_

He listened carefully, as he walked around the townhouse, trying to find any signs of life to let him know which person was where. There were no voices of the adults in the house, but he did pick up a faint noise, something soft and delicate, but very familiar. Humming, that same sweet tune Rachel hummed to him to calm his nerves. She's still there, but something doesn't seem right by the way she hummed - how the hell was he even able to tell in the first place? It was time to check up on her, maybe he can lure her parents away, so he can coax Ray's attention to a window. Isaac walked up to the front door, and began to knock on it. He pressed his ear to the door to listen if someone was approaching, but the only sound that filled his ears was the same muffled tune.

"Fuck this…" Zack grumbled to himself.

He grasped the doorknob, and tested it. To his surprise, it was unlocked, and allowed him to open the door for him to peek his head in. There was no one near the doorway, no one giving signs of walking towards the door, just emptiness with hums filling the home. As Zack snuck into the home, he picked up a strong metallic scent, which made a pit form in his gut. It's the same heavy atmosphere he feels as before. Isaac's off-colored eyes scanned the home, seeing it used to be a simple home with a once normal family, but now there was tattered wallpaper and alcoholic bottles spread all over the place.

On the tattered and holed walls, he saw various family pictures, something of what was once was. Her father looked like a respected police officer, and his wife was a proud woman. Then he noticed the photos of the entire family, Rachel had a normal family once, and judging by the age she looked in the picture, it was many years ago. Years of having to deal with a broken family, it was no wonder she was splitting at the seams.

"Now we're a perfect family…" a voice spoke out, snapping Zack from his thoughts. He held his knife out, ready to take down anyone who noticed his intrusion. The voice was young, it had to be Rachel; but how she said the word _perfect_ , just like with the dog, it made goosebumps rise within his skin.

Zack stepped back from the walls of photos, and followed the strong stench into the living room. He knows it's blood, especially after spilling it as of recently. Step by step, the scent grew more pungent, until he felt something hard underneath his boot. Isaac glanced down to what he stepped on, and saw a familiar item - a kitchen knife, caked in blood. Judging from the color and eventual flaky appearance, the blood had been spilled about a day ago.

What happened?

Isaac approached the entrance to the living room, and saw a figure sitting on a couch - make that two figures. They appeared to be two adults, leaning against each other, with fingers intertwined together - forcibly, by red thread.

That wasn't all, he spotted Ray, still happily humming away, as she held their lips together, keeping it into a sort of twisted smile, while she permanently sewn them into place.

"We're all a happy family again," she said cheerfully.

"What the actual fuck…" Zack muttered to himself.

She's done it again, except it was much, _much_ worse. The female was nearly torn to shreds, and Zack could tell that it was done with the work of a knife, the very same knife he stepped on. The man - her father, showed signs of gunshot wounds, but also blood on his hands, well one of them. He can see the other had been replaced with the hand of a large teddy bear. He's killed people indiscriminately, but this was a whole new level.

"Ray, what the fuck did you do?!"

The sudden shout made the girl jump within her skin, and turned around to see Zack standing there, in her living room.

"It's okay, Zack...Mom and Dad are getting along now...we're going to be a family again!" Rachel said, with a creepy grin on her face, and a sinister red shine to her dead eyes. He can sense her priding within herself with the desecrated corpse doll she had just conjured into make-shift parents. "It's all I ever wanted, a perfect family...a perfect mom and dad. We'll laugh and play together every day…"

She was rambling crazily, just like with the fucking dog. Isaac grit his teeth in frustration, and clenched his fists. The girl saw him raise it up in a familiar, but terrifying fashion. She recoiled back, afraid of getting hurt, and raised her arms up to avoid the strike. That wasn't enough to shield her, he quickly brushed her arms out of the way, and delivered a well-deserved smack upside the head to snap her out of it.

"Fucking dumbass!"

The pain was short, with a faint lingering sting that followed after. Still, that blunt strike was enough to jolt the girl back to reality again - it seemed to be the only thing to snap her out of this craze. Like before, it did the trick, he saw the glint leave her eyes, returning them to their hollow blue color. She was disoriented and confused, but most of all, she seemed scared. It was like her brain had just reset to her emotion she left off.

Then came the smell, blood and death. Dread began to creep on Rachel's face, as a macabre sense of deja vu overwhelmed her. She can hear her heart beating, while she slowly turned to face the reality that was around her now. Blood was everywhere, she stunk of it, and right beside her was a product of her actions. Her mother and her father, dead and stitched together to look like a forced loving couple. Time literally stopped for her, and her heart almost stopped beating from pure shock. Her parents were dead, and it was all her fault.

Her fault.

A misery bringer.

 _Her fault…_

Soon, the living room was filled with a loud scream is despair, Isaac nearly panicked from the sound, and quickly muffled her to prevent anyone outside from being alarmed. It wasn't enough, the girl had to move Zack's hand away, to let out her pained cries. She did this, her parents are dead now and it was all her fault. She committed a great evil, she brought misery, she brought death, and she was unforgivable.

"Please!" she screams. "Please, Zack!"

She grasps at the man's hoodie, tears flowing from her eyes, and absolutely frantic.

"Please, Zack! Kill me! Please! I need to die!"

Hearing her beg for death at his hand - it shocked him, but most of all, it disgusted him. The man growled to himself, as he harshly shoved the girl away from him.

"Put down the fuckin' crack pipe and pull yer'self together!"

"Please…" she whimpered. "I need to die...I shouldn't be alive...I'm defiled…"

"Oh shut up, n' quit treatin' me like I'm like a fuckin' confessional. Y' think killin' is something new to me?" he shouted, then took a deep breath. "...What the fuck happened, Ray? Did yer' shitbag of a Pop finally push that last button?"

"I...I don't know…"

"Bullshit!" Zack snapped. "Spill it!"

"I can't...I'm sorry but I can't!" Ray muttered, as she shook with fear. "Y-You'll think I'm crazy or messed up...o-or insane…"

"Too fuckin' late for that! Ya' want me to just look at those bodies and say yer' home decorating? Awfully fucked up tastes, Ray. Quit pussyfooting around and tell me."

Ray's eyes glanced back at the bodies in the living room, just looking at them fills her with self loathing and pure disgust, but deep down, her truest emotion welling within her was nothing. Sure, she was disgusted with the things she has done, but this other side of her was empty - no relief or sorrow.

"Not here...I don't want to see them anymore…"

Isaac let out a sigh of frustration, "Fine...let's talk about this somewhere else…"

* * *

Rachel sat on her mattress, she had a thousand mile stare on her face, while her mind was still trying to process everything that transpired prior to this heinous crime. Isaac stood there, leaning against the wall, as he watched the girl twiddle her thumbs and struggle to keep calm.

"Out of sight, n' out of mind...now tell me what the fuck happened here," Zack said. "I taught ya' to fight off yer' old man, not straight up kill him..."

Then something popped within his head, almost sending a sudden chill down his spine, "Oh shit, yer' house is squished together with your neighbors...pretty sure they heard ya' squealin' earlier…"

"I have no neighbors…"

"Eh?"

"Mom and Dad's constant fighting chased them away...so no one heard anything…" Ray muttered. "I'm sure no one's coming to investigate...yet."

"Thank Christ for that…" Zack said under his breath, "...so, what happened?"

Rachel tightened her lips, and her throat grew sore from restriction. Just recalling it was making panic swell within her body, and her mind screamed for some sort of mental distraction. Her eyes wandered the room, even trying to avoid looking at Zack, until something glinted in the natural light of the room. On the floor, just off-side her bedroom door, she had blocked its existence out as soon as they entered - a pistol laid there, next to a dried pool of blood that's stained into her carpet.

"Mom had a gun…" Ray spoke. "She and Dad were fighting again, and Dad beat Mom up really bad, then left to get drunk. I watched her wander off, and she pulled out the gun. She kept muttering to herself that it was her trump card, and that Dad will finally listen to her…"

Isaac could see where this was going, it also explained why the man was pretty much riddled with holes.

"When dad came home, it was obvious that he was drunk, and spent his entire paycheck on alcohol alone. Mother was furious about it, but Dad wouldn't hear it and another fight ensued - he even tried to drag me into it for sneaking out the other night...w-when you committed those murders…" Rachel continued. "...I was in my room, listening to my music box to drown it all out...then…"

"...Well?"

"Mother screamed, it wasn't the kind of scream she often did when dad hit her…" Ray said. "...Dad...h-he was stabbing her and wouldn't stop, even when she tried to fight him off."

Zack's eyes narrowed, now that explained the bloody knife, and her mother's tattered corpse, "So yer' old man lost his marbles first?"

"I guess you can say that...he noticed I became a witness, and I was the next target…" Ray said, as her voice quivered. "I ran for my life, and that was when I remembered mother's gun."

Isaac glanced at the fractured door to Ray's bedroom, as well as the gun sitting on the dried blood on the floor. It was easy to piece together what else could transpire afterwards.

"He kicked my door open, even after locking it...I was scared for my life, but as I held out the gun...something within me just snapped," Ray said. "It was that same feeling I got when that puppy bit me...after that, I was in a haze. I wanted to make something perfect, a perfect and happy family, and I wanted to make it all mine. It was almost like time slowed down, but was stuck in some state of euphoria - a hallucation, but had no idea what I was really doing...I...I did this...it's all my fault...I deserve to die!"

"For what? From what ya' said, you were defending yourself from a fuckin' drunk psycho for a dad... _buuuut_ , the whole sewing them up thing was a bit overkill," Isaac replied.

"A-Are you not bothered by this? Why are you so numb by so much death and killing, Zack?"

"I told ya' Ray...I found my calling as a killer, it's something I've repressed for a long ass time," the man replied. "I thought if I lived with Gramps, then maybe there was a chance to be normal again. Well, that chance is fuckin' gone now."

"What do you mean?"

"All those fuckers I killed the other day wasn't my first killings. I've done it before when I was a brat your age," Zack replied. "...Gramps didn't get to hear the whole story about me. So I guess the things he told you is pretty much from his own assumption…"

Zack walked up to the bed, and set himself on the mattress, he almost faltered for a second from how springy and short it was compared to the couch.

"Gramps told me you had a violent side, ever since you were a kid. He didn't know what caused it, but he worried for you…" Ray said.

A bitter, yet somber laugh escaped from Zack's lips, "He knew I killed people before...I felt like killing some random bastard...so I did it, and I had no shame telling Gramps...but...he still accepted me. Hell, even when he found me, I had recently killed someone to steal their car to sleep in...and before that…"

Isaac paused in his words.

"Before that, was when I found my muse to have a taste for blood…" Zack said. "...I never got to tell Gramps this...I guess if there was another person in this shitty world I'd want to tell, it may as well be you."

Somehow, hearing him say that touched her in a way - he trusts her enough to convey the very source of his darker side.

"I came from an Orphanage, before Gramps found me," Zack said. "...and it wasn't a legally run place either."

"What do you mean?"

"It was some house that was pretty much set up for shitty parents to dump their unwanted kids like trash," Zack said. "None of the kids were taken care off, once they were dropped off, it was every kid of themselves."

Rachel can see an angered, but pained expression on Isaac's face, "I outlived them all. I learned to live off every scrap, no matter how disgusting or rotten it was. While every kid starved and begged for food, only to get nothing. Kids got sick, kids starved, and kids died...and guess who was the one forced to bury them?"

Zack always felt disgust when he had to bury corpses, no matter how foul they got. "I was nothing more than a tool to them...those bastards that ran the joint always made sure to remind me that I was nothing more than a tool...and a monster…"

"Zack...you're not a monster...how many times do I need to tell y-"

With no word of warning, Isaac raised his hands, and proceeded to tear the thing cloth off his face. Ray's heart sank to see what he had been hiding underneath the bandages all this time. His skin was littered in clumped skin, scars, and judging by the type, they belonged to one of a burn victim.

"I am a monster, Ray...no fucking normal kid could survive being burned alive and left to starve…"

Ray wasn't going to have any of that, not at all, instead, she leaned close to the man, and raised her hands up to him. Zack felt his heart stop, and quickly tried to recoil from her.

"Don't touch me!" he shouts.

His demand went ignored, and reached for him again. No amount of shouts, or slaps to the hand was going to stop her. Attempt after attempt, she finally settled a palm on Zack's bare cheek, and the man froze to her touch. A raw and warm sensation touching his scarred skin, with no signs of disgust or recoil, Zack didn't know how to react. He's "shown" Gramps before, but Rachel was seeing the real deal.

Her touch was curious, but gentle, as if the man was made of glass.

Zack felt like he was going to have a panic attack, but something about her calm demeanor kept him from outright freaking out at her.

"I don't see a monster...I still see Zack," she says, talking to him in that calm and soothing tone, like that one night. "...you're a human being...someone who's been wronged all their life..."

The man's throat constricted tightly, it's almost the same energy he felt when Gramps showed his acceptance towards him, and he felt that familiar sting in his eyes.

He can't lose someone like this...not again…

"Yeah...I guess yer' in the same boat as me, huh?" Zack said, with a slight crack in his voice. Then he took a deep breath, "The muse that inspired me to kill was some sort of shitty splatter film, one of the folks runnin' the place watched that shit religiously. He left the TV running that night, and it caught my attention after burying another kid."

The sounds of rain and static filled his head again, as every second of his memory recounted the events, motives, and even the euphoria he felt.

"The movie made it look so easy to kill someone. Easy to get rid of their disgusting smiles, as I suffered. Easy to finally be free from being their fucking tool...it just all looked so easy...all it took was one kitchen knife." Zack said. "I never expected to feel so fuckin' alive when I did it. That state of...uhh…"

"Euphoria."

"Yeah, that...I felt so god damn satisfied and giddy as I did it. Something about seeing their smiles shift into horror got my blood pumping," Zack continued. "...You felt it too that day...with the mutt."

 _'I felt something I really shouldn't have...it was like a sense of satisfaction...'_

The desire to make things perfect under her haze. To make them hers. She sewed them up, but felt an odd joy about it, just like how Zack had his own sense of glee when driving victims to despair during the hunt.

Ray wasn't alone in these dark thoughts. Nor, was she being shunned.

"If ya' really think yer' insane, gotta die, yadda yadda...well, then we're both crazy together."

Rachel stared at the man, almost in shock as Zack spoke his words of acceptance towards her. There was no normal to them anymore, so what was going to happen from then on, would be their own kind of normal. She promised Gramps to watch over Zack, but right now seemed to be reversed.

Silence filled the room, as Rachel was slowly coming into terms of what has been done, and that the life she had known was gone forever. Zack seemed to know that, after all, he himself began to shed away all bits of normalcy that he once had.

"Y' know someone's gonna find the bodies soon...chances are the fuzz will take you away," Zack said. "You're free to ditch this place...unless...you think you can trust them enough to put you in a decent place, unlike mine. I mean, hell, maybe you won't get the short end of the stick n' actually have a nice family this time."

"What about you, Zack?"

"Huuh? What about me? I've chosen my path...I don't think a girl like you wants to throw their life away to be with some killer," Zack replies.

"I...I promised Gramps that I would watch over you…"

Isaac paused for a moment, "...He...he said that?"

Ray nods, "I don't see myself in another home, Zack...I think I already found my place when I got to know you and Gramps…"

It was clear that Ray wanted to walk in Gramps' shoes to help keep Zack's darker tendencies in check, just as he tried for her. It seemed there really was no other alternate path, but to embrace this other side of themselves. Normal just wasn't it for them. Then it hit him, the priest from before, and the offer he made. The guy was looking for folks that had no issues with killing, Ray may still be fresh to the act itself, but he can see in her eyes, that she could easily walk away from this crime. Hell, she was unbothered by his own actions, desires, and threats. However, he does want to put to a stop with the whole sewing thing. Zack may not be role model material to a girl her age, but neither were her shitty parents. If the two were to run away to some sort of safe haven, then this would be it.

"Hey, Ray...I think I know a spot where we can go…"

"What do you mean? What happened to your house?"

"Nothin', we ain't gonna go back there anymore," Zack said outright. "Yer' folks are dead, and the first thing they're gonna do is look for you. If they find you with me, an adult male, livin' in a torn up shit shack, then they'll definitely pin the murder on me."

He wasn't wrong, they most likely would, and probably easily tie his own murders in there.

"Where do you suggest we go?"

"Just follow me, I got th' place memorized…"

* * *

Dawn would be approaching within the next hour; through the window, Ray can see the shine of stars wane, as the sun was on its path to rise to the new morning. Isaac gave Rachel the time to prep herself to leave, take any essentials she thinks would be useful, or maybe something sentimental she couldn't part with. This would be her last and only chance to do so, before they left. Zack held onto her carry bag, while she busies her hands with what to take or leave. Of course she brought the fucking sewing kit, but he also noticed something else she slipped into the bag.

"Th' gun?"

"Yeah...I think it's better that I take it...besides...my fingerprints are on them too…" Ray replied.

She rifled through her drawers, brushing aside different articles of clothing, until she found what she was looking for. When she heard her mother's screams, she had to stash away her precious treasure before going to investigate. Ray picked up a small wooden box, and opened it for a short peek. Isaac heard that familiar song that Ray hummed to him; just like with her voice, the tune was soft and gentle. No wonder Rachel listened to it to drown out the world.

"You taking that too?"

She nods to reply, "That should be all…"

"Alright…" Zack said, as he slipped the strap of her bag over his shoulder.

They both treaded downstairs, back into the living area where the two saw the patchwork corpses, forever in a permanent grin. Rachel stared at what once was her parents, this time, showing no shock or remorse on her expression - rather acceptance. They're gone now and nothing will ever bring them back.

"What's the hold up?" Zack asked impatiently.

"...It's just an odd feeling to leave this all behind…"

To leave something you were used to most of your life, even if it was a horrible one. Zack knows this all too well, even leaving the more peaceful life stung him.

"Then say goodbye like a good girl, then we can get the hell outta here…"

Ray glanced at Zack, then to the corpses, after all, they were still her parents. With a hollow, but somber expression, she raised a hand and lightly waved it farewell.

"Bye bye…"

* * *

They spent the remainder of the night cutting through the town's alleyways. Isaac appeared to get a general idea of where this new "safe haven" was. As if he was retracing every last step he took to reach it. Ray quietly followed behind, trusting him towards the promised location, wherever he lead, it was going to be her new life now.

"Here we are…"

Rachel glanced up to see a dilapidated building, almost in worst wear than Zack and Gramps' old shack. She raised a brow, unsure of what significance Zack held for it, but she could ask later when they settle. The man lead her across the street, towards the building, until she noticed the building still had functional security cameras. The light from the electronics flashed off and on, until they slowly turned to face their direction. The place may look trashed and abandoned, but it was clear that it had someone occupying it.

"Are you sure about this place?"

"Not really, but if I got bad vibes, I can just slice the guy up…" Zack replied.

"So, have you thought it over?" a voice called out.

Both Zack and Ray focused their direction forward, and saw a figure walk towards them from the entrance of the building. Rachel noticed the odd scent coming from him - sweet, but with a slight waft of fishiness in it. Such a strange scent made her head spin, but she shook herself to her senses.

"Yeah...I'm gonna do it...but under one condition," Zack replied.

"Condition?"

Isaac stood aside, showing the priest that he wasn't alone. He appeared confused and caught off guard about his companion. She looked like an innocent young girl, but he can see something else in her eyes - those emotionless and hollow eyes. Something about her leaves the holy man uneasy.

"She's gotta take part too…"

"She's just a young girl...this is no place for her…"

"I was a brat when I slit my first throat. Trust me, old man...from what I've seen, she'll fit right in," Zack said, with a confident smirk.

Gray glanced at the girl again, then to Zack, and noticed the supposed wings that he saw within him were being bound. Something about the girl was having an effect on Isaac, but even more mysterious is why didn't he see her during Zack's soul searching? All he saw was the young man's origin, and his current life, yet this girl never even showed any sign in those memories.

 _'Something just isn't right about this girl…'_ Gray thought to himself. _'She clearly has some sort of effect on this man, and it's robbing him of what he truly is…'_

"No...I'm afraid I cannot accept her…"

Zack shot the priest a glare, and clenched his fists.

"Then go fuck yourself."

With a growl in his voice, he turned his back at the priest, and gently lead Rachel away to return to the alleyways for a Plan B. This startled Gray, he can't afford to lose someone such as Zack, a natural born killer, but at the same time, this girl was casting a foul shadow behind him.

"W-Wait!" he beckons. "Perhaps I'm being too judgemental...I'll...I'll accept your condition…"

Isaac paused in his steps, and glanced over his shoulder, "Are you now?"

"Y-Yes...however, I don't think the other Angels will be too pleased with this decision," Gray said.

"...Other...Angels?"

This confused Rachel, "Angels?"

"Yes, there are others...I have turned down some that did not meet my requirements...this situation is quite different," Gray said. "Before we get your living area set up...I suppose we should all hold an Orientation. There's much the both of you need to learn."

Isaac finally remembered the priest said that this building was a sort of passion project,so of course there was going to be other killers like himself - as much as he hated the idea of seeing other people. This was going to be a place where Zack could kill as freely as he wanted, that was the only aspect he cared about. There was also Rachel too, after what happened, there really was no other future for the girl, than to go with him. This was her choice.

"Ya' ready, Ray? It's yer' last chance to turn back…"

The girl nods without hesitation, "Where you go, I go…"

Isaac ruffled the girl's hair, while the priest walked off to lead the two of them inside of the building. Before they followed suit, Zack took another glance off into the distance. He reflected on that old shack, his life with Gramps, and the possibilities Zack has to take in his path of life. He's taken his path, perhaps this one stretch of road, before it forks into another. He knows what he wants to do now, and he was going to see where it was going to lead him. The man turned his attention back to Ray, he wasn't going to walk this path alone. It was like a sense of deja vu, now that he thinks about it, like the first day he went to live with Gramps - only the roles became reversed. Maybe one day, they will find their own different callings, or perhaps Gramps knew fate would have them stay.

Whatever happens in this building, it was their life now, and a new chapter in their lives was about to begin.


End file.
